


holding back the wind

by race_the_ace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fix-It, M/M, Mentions of canon abuse, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Pre-Series, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Season/Series 01 Spoilers, Teen Wolf Rare Pair Big-Bang, sex between two minors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/race_the_ace/pseuds/race_the_ace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes people fall in love young and that changes everything. This is the story of how it changed everything for Stiles and Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding back the wind

**Author's Note:**

> Title: holding back the wind  
> Disclaimer: Not mine.  
> Fandom: Teen Wolf  
> Pairing: Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski  
> Word count: 22,267  
> Rating: M  
> Warnings: panic attack, death/murder of a semi-main character (the character also dies in canon), boy on boy sexy times, abuse of tropes, no giraffes  
> Summary: Sometimes people fall in love young and that changes everything. This is the story of how it changed everything for Stiles and Danny. 
> 
> Author’s Notes:  
> \- For the rptwbigbang but the mods have disappeared so I'm posting now because I'm tired of waiting.  
> \- Title from Stupid Boy by Keith Urban, though I listened to the Cassadee Pope version

*****

Stiles is eleven when he realizes that maybe he isn’t like other boys. Other than his brain moving at warp-speeds, he doesn’t start to get stuttery around girls. Not the way other guys do. He listens to Scott talk about some girl’s hair and Stiles throws everything he can reach at him until he stops. 

So maybe his epic crush on Lydia isn’t really a crush so much as an interest and maybe Stiles doesn’t even want to hang out with her because girls are _something_ that Stiles hasn’t quite identified but knows enough that he wants nothing to do with them. 

He lets Scott stare at hair and wanders around during recess on his own. At least until he bumps into Danny, also wandering around on his own, and they bond over the way their best friends have been stolen by hormones. 

It goes that way for months during fifth grade. Scott stares, Jackson flirts with Lydia, and Danny and Stiles watch the ensuing drama unfold. 

Everything changes a month or so after New Year’s. 

“So much red,” Stiles complains to his dad as he’s dragged through Target. “And pink. Why is there so much pink?”

His dad looks amused. “Valentine’s Day is coming up,” he informs Stiles. “Women like pink.”

“I really think they don’t,” Stiles argues. He perks up, “But, hey! Candy!”

His dad sighs. “Yes, yes, let’s get your class valentines while we’re here, okay? How about you go look at them and I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. There are thirty kids in your class, so make sure you get enough, okay?”

Stiles nods. “Yep, got it. Candy, candy, candy!”

“One bag,” his dad says sternly. “One bag, Stiles.”

Stiles will just pick a really big bag of candy. “Okay!” He runs off before his dad can put any more restrictions on candy bag size. 

The valentines aisle is littered with hearts and glitter and Stiles makes a face at it but keeps going. There’s a long section of boxed cards and Stiles scans them all before landing on some awesome Ninja Turtles ones. He grabs two boxes of those and the biggest bag of candy he can find of peanut butter cups. Then he bounces. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

He gets tired of waiting and wanders around the rest of the holiday area. He wonders what body chocolate is for. Maybe it’s like those face masks his mom used to wear for better skin. He pokes his face and decides he’s fine with his skin as it is and he moves on. 

There are boxes of chocolate everywhere, most shaped like hearts, which Stiles thinks is lame, but it’s chocolate so he doesn’t really care what shape it comes in as long as it delivers the goods. He wonders if he can convince his dad to buy him one of them. 

Near the end of the aisle something catches his eye. It’s a giant sized Reese’s peanut butter cup, about the size of Stiles’s hand and Stiles suddenly wants it. Not for himself, but for Danny. Danny loves them almost as much as Stiles does and Stiles is sure he’d love this, even if the wrapper does have hearts all over it. 

He snatches one from the shelf and holds it carefully against his chest. It’s perfect. 

“Stiles?” he hears from the next aisle. 

Stiles runs around the corner and skids to a stop in front of his dad. “Ninja Turtles!” he yells, shoving the awesome valentines in his dad’s face. 

His dad, though, isn’t looking at them, he’s zoomed in on the peanut butter cup Stiles is clutching. “Absolutely not, kid,” he says. 

“It’s not for me!” Stiles protests. “It’s for Danny. I think he’d really like it.”

His dad frowns. “You want to buy that for Danny? Hawaiian Danny? A boy, right?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah, he’s really cool. We hang out all the time during recess.”

“I’m not sure Valentine’s Day is a good time to give him something,” he dad says carefully. 

Stiles furrows his brow. “Why not? It’s like National Candy Giving Day! It’d be weird if I did it on another day, dad.”

“Stiles…” he begins before trailing off. Stiles watches as he sighs and then smiles again. “Alright, kid. Let’s pay for this stuff and go.”

He doesn’t fist-pump, but it’s a close thing. 

On the fourteenth, the teachers refuse to let everyone exchange valentines until the end of the day, but since Stiles has a special one for Danny, he doesn’t think he needs to wait. 

“Hey!” Stiles greets when Danny walks over. 

Danny smiles and Stiles feels his stomach flop. “Hey, Stiles. Sucks that we have to wait all day for candy.”

“I heard Mrs. Martinez say that she doesn’t get paid enough to have to put up with kids on a sugar rush,” Stiles confides in him. “Sugar is awesome, though.”

Danny stands awkwardly in front of where Stiles is sitting on one of the tables. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets and says, “I, um, got you something. Something different than the things for everyone else.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, eyes wide. 

Danny pulls his hand out of his sweatshirt and shoves what he’s holding in front of Stiles’s face. It’s a Reese’s peanut butter cup, but in the shape of a heart and when Stiles reaches for it, his hands shake a little. He stares at it for a minute and then remembers, “I got you something, too.” 

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out his gift for Danny and watches as Danny grins when he sees it. “Great minds think alike,” Danny laughs. He holds the gift from Stiles carefully, as though he’s afraid it will drop. “Thanks, Stiles.”

“Thanks for mine, too,” Stiles says. “It’s really cool.”

Danny bites his lip and then leans in and he’s suddenly really, really close to Stiles. He looks indecisive for a moment before he darts forward and kisses Stiles on the cheek. Danny looks surprised when he pulls back, surprised but not regretful. Stiles feels his cheeks heat up and his stomach flops again. 

When Danny sits next to him, he sits closer than usual, their arms pressing together and their knees touching. For once he can’t think of anything to say and his chest tightens every time he opens his mouth. 

They spend the rest of recess in silence and Stiles doesn’t care if it means he never talks again, he wants to spend all of his time with Danny like that. 

In April, Danny reaches over and grabs one of Stiles’s hands while Stiles is mid-sentence about a new comic book he got. His brain stutters to a stop and he stares at where their hands are touching. Then Danny threads their fingers together and squeezes lightly and asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Stiles says, nodding emphatically. “Very okay. Really okay. It’s super okay.” Because maybe he doesn’t really know what it means, but it feels really nice. Danny has nice hands, they’re warm and soft and most of all one of them is _touching Stiles’s hand._

“Good,” Danny smiles. “So, Batman?” he prompts. 

Stiles blinks. “Batman, right. So Batman takes off across the city…”

Every day after that, Danny holds his hand. Stiles thought maybe he wouldn’t, that it was a one time thing, but now it’s expected. It’s the best part of Stiles’s day. 

“Dad?” he asks during dinner a few weeks after the first time Danny held his hand. 

His dad raises an eyebrow. “Stiles?”

Stiles pokes at his chicken with his fork before blurting out, “What’s it mean if you hold hands with someone? Like, someone your age, not like a mom and a kid or something, but someone that you talk to a lot and sometimes you talk to them while you hold hands.”

His dad pauses. “Would this someone happen to be Danny?”

“Um,” Stiles says. He feels himself blush. “Maybe, possibly, probably yes.”

“And you two…hold hands?” his dad repeats. 

“During recess,” Stiles says. “Because at lunch he sits with Jackson and I sit with Scott, but during recess we sit with each other.”

“And hold hands,” his dad says again. 

“Oh my god, _yes_ ,” Stiles says. “Is that bad?”

His dad takes a long drink of his water. Stiles fidgets with his jeans while he waits. He hopes it’s not bad. He doesn’t want it to be bad. Stiles really likes Danny and he likes holding his hand. 

“If you like holding Danny’s hand…” his dad waits for him to nod, so Stiles does. “Then there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“He’s a boy,” Stiles says. 

His dad nods. “He is, and if you like boys instead of girls, that’s okay, too, Stiles. As long as it’s also okay with Danny.”

“So you’re alright with me holding Danny’s hand?” Stiles asks, just to make sure. 

“I’m alright with it,” his dad confirms. “It might… Kid, it might make life a little harder for you and Danny, but even _I’ve_ noticed how much more you’ve been smiling lately.”

“Do you think it means he likes me?” Stiles presses. 

His dad nods. “I don’t know how anyone couldn’t.”

The next day during recess, Stiles waits for Danny to find him and then he grabs his hand and hauls him around the side of the building, out of sight from everyone else. 

“Stiles?” Danny asks, confused. 

Stiles takes a deep breath. “I like you a lot.”

Danny’s face softens into a smile. “I like you a lot, too.”

“I _like_ like you a lot.”

“I _like_ like you a lot, too,” Danny repeats with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Stiles asks, trying not to look as scared as he feels. 

Danny steps in closer to him until their bodies as practically touching. “I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ll ever have,” he promises. 

Stiles wants to jump around yelling that Danny likes him. Instead he asks, “Can we kiss now?” 

Danny laughs and says, “Sure. But I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Me neither,” Stiles tells him. “I’m probably really bad at it.”

“We’ll learn together,” Danny says, making Stiles feel kind of weak. “Ready?” 

Stiles nods. 

Danny leans in and for the first time Stiles doesn’t have time to think about anything before their lips are touching. It’s kind of weird, he thinks, but it’s _Danny_ , so it’s inherently awesome. Danny’s lips are soft and Stiles likes the feeling of them on his own. A hand settles on his hip--Danny’s free hand, and it’s the most they’ve ever touched at once and Stiles likes it. 

When they pull back Stiles can’t stop the blush from settling in his cheeks, and even Danny--who is normally so unflappable--seems shaken. 

“That was really nice,” Danny says shyly. 

Stiles agrees, “Yeah.”

Danny licks his lips and Stiles can’t help but think that Danny is licking where Stiles just was. “Are you free this weekend?” Danny asks. “Maybe you could come over and watch a movie at my house.”

“I’m free, definitely free. Free as a bird, even,” Stiles answers. “Free, free, free.”

Danny grins and Stiles can’t help it. He leans in and gives him a quick kiss, because he can now. Danny squeezes his hip lightly and then reaches around him until they’re hugging one-armed because neither wants to stop holding hands. 

Stiles hasn’t been big on hugging, not since his mom’s funeral where everyone hugged him and all he could think about was how much he wished they’d stop touching him. But with Danny it’s different. With Danny he likes it. 

That night, Stiles doesn’t even wait for his dad to close the door when he gets home from work. He pounces on him in the entryway and laughs happily, “Danny’s my boyfriend now!”

His dad smiles and gathers him up in a hug. “I’m going to have to meet Danny’s parents, you know that, right?”

“You can meet them this weekend,” Stiles says, uncaring. “Danny invited me over to his house to watch movies together. I can go, right, dad?”

His dad hugs him tighter. “Of course, kiddo.”

Stiles wiggles his way out of his dad’s grip and proceeds to dance across the living room with his dad laughing in the background. 

They spend their summer together, splitting time between each other and their respective best friends. Scott thinks it’s weird that Stiles wants to date a boy, but mostly just shrugs and says he’s glad that Stiles is happy. Jackson thinks it’s weird that Danny wants to date _Stiles_ , but Danny doesn’t speak to him for two weeks until Jackson apologizes and after that things seem to go smoothly in the Danny/Jackson camp from what Stiles can tell. 

Most of the time they end up at Danny’s house, since that’s where the parental supervision is most likely to be. Stiles slides into life there with ease, helping Danny’s mom cook dinner or set the table. He takes out the trash and vacuums while Danny cleans windows. He moves from being a guest to being part of the family and he likes it. Being with Danny is easy and the best feeling ever. 

They don’t do more than kiss a little. Mostly they lay in Danny’s bed, no room between them, and talk about things--movies, books, life. Danny kicks Stiles’s ass in video games and Stiles kicks butt in Monopoly. Their parents trust them, for now, and neither of them want to ruin that trust. 

By the time they start high school, Danny and Stiles have been together for over three years. They’ve become _that_ couple. The couple that’s been together forever. And Stiles is really okay with that label. Because he loves Danny. Like _loves_ loves Danny, and he knows Danny loves him. 

In November of freshman year, Danny asks him, “Stiles, do you ever… Do you ever want to date other people?”

Hurt blossoms in his chest and he can’t breathe. His throat closes up and he’s choking on air. Spots dance in his vision and Stiles can’t hear anything, but he can feel Danny next to him, behind him, sitting him up off of his bed. His head is pushed down and between his knees and a warm hand rubs circles into his back. 

He’s dying, he knows he is. He’s going to die right _now_. 

When he opens his eyes again, Danny’s mom is crouched down next to him and he’s laying on Danny’s bed. Behind her he can see Danny hovering worriedly, fear in his eyes. 

“Stiles?” she asks. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Stiles shakes his head, because he knows what happened now. “Panic attack,” he rasps. 

She rests a hand on his forehead. “Have you had one before?”

“Yes,” he chokes out. “After my mom died I had them a lot.”

“This one seemed pretty bad,” she tells him. “You passed out for a few minutes. We can take you to the hospital if you want.”

“No,” he says. “I’m fine.”

She looks at him and then back at Danny and finally nods. “Alright. Let me know if you need something, alright?” She stands up and waggles a finger in Danny’s direction. “Take it easy with him.”

Danny nods and waits for her to leave before he walks over and collapses down onto the bed next to Stiles. He reaches for Stiles’s hand and Stiles lets him. “I thought you were dead,” he says quietly. “When you passed out, my hands were shaking so badly that I couldn’t find your pulse.” He leans forward and pushes his face against Stiles’s neck. He says again, “I thought you were dead.”

“Sorry,” Stiles says. He brings his free hand up and runs it through Danny’s hair. “Sorry, Danny.”

“My fault,” Danny mumbles. “I shouldn’t have brought it up that way.”

Stiles scratches at Danny’s scalp. “Are we breaking up?”

Danny bolts up, eyes wide. “What? No!”

“So you don’t want to date other guys?” Stiles asks, confused. 

“No,” Danny says emphatically. “I only want to date you. Basically forever.”

For as long as they’ve been dating, it’s the first time either one of them has alluded to any kind of long-term commitment. For the first two years Stiles was convinced Danny would break up with him everyday. The summer before ninth grade, Danny drove them out to the beach for the sunset, wrapped himself around Stiles from behind and said, “I love you.”

Stiles hasn’t stopped saying it back since. 

“Me, too,” Stiles whispers. “Forever. With you.” Danny looks completely relieved when Stiles says that, which Stiles doesn’t understand at all. “Did you think I wanted to date someone else?”

Danny shrugs. “It’s just, Jackson said--”

Stiles groans. “You’re breaking the rules.” 

Danny kisses him. “He just wants what’s best for us.”

“For _you_ ,” Stiles grumbles. Jackson doesn’t like Stiles, and he’s made that very clear. Stiles knows it causes Danny a lot of consternation that his best friend and his boyfriend don’t get along. He’d tried for a while, to get along with Jackson, but after a year or so of rejections, they’d agreed on a truce of silence. Now whenever Jackson is there, it’s easier for both of them to pretend the other isn’t. 

“He was just saying that he can’t imagine spending forever with someone that he met in fifth grade.”

“He knew Lydia in fifth grade,” Stiles objects. 

“Yeah, but you know they didn’t get together until last August,” Danny points out. 

Stiles makes a face, “It’s not my fault he wasted all that time.”

“True enough,” Danny agrees. He shifts so that he’s laying down next to Stiles and then he reaches over and maneuvers Stiles until he’s practically on top of Danny. Stiles thinks it’s a little unfair that Danny’s growth spurt included all kinds of extra muscles and good looks and Stiles’s included nothing. Danny runs a hand up the back of Stiles’s shirt, skin meeting skin. “I’m scared that one day you’ll meet someone else and want to date them and feel stuck with me.”

Stiles snorts. “I think if either of us should have that fear, it should be me. Have you seen yourself?”

“Stiles…” Danny says seriously. 

“If that happens, for either of us, let’s promise to be honest about it,” Stiles says quietly. “We can talk it out, Danny.”

“Okay,” Danny agrees. “Feel up to making out?”

“When have I ever not felt like making out?” Stiles counters. 

“You were unconscious ten minutes ago, Stiles,” Danny says. 

“That was ten minutes ago, totally different time from right now.”

Danny laughs and slides his hand down Stiles’s back to gently squeeze his ass. “Stop me if you have any trouble breathing.”

“You’re feeling me up,” Stiles points out. “I always have trouble breathing when your hand is on my butt.”

“If you die when we finally have sex because you can’t breathe,” Danny says with a mock glare. “I will kick your ass in death and back again.”

“Promises, promises,” Stiles grins. The thought of sex with Danny speeds his heartbeat up. They’ve both decided to wait until they’re sixteen, which is more than a year away. He can’t think of why they decided to wait right now, but at the time there were a lot of good reasons thrown around. 

“Jackson thinks we already have sex,” Danny confesses. 

“So does Scott,” Stiles confides. “Our parents probably think we’re getting up to something also.”

“My dad keeps buying me condoms,” Danny complains. He reaches over and opens the drawer in his bedside table and Stiles laughs at the contents. There are at least five boxes of condoms and various bottles of lube stored there. 

“My dad says he doesn’t want to know ever,” Stiles informs him. “Which is probably for the best.”

“Way agreed,” Danny says. “Make out time?”

Instead of answering, Stiles kisses him, which he figures is answer enough.

-0-

Stiles needs to tell someone and for four years that someone has been Danny. He thinks it can’t be Danny now, but his subconscious disagrees with him because instead of driving home, Stiles has ended up at Danny’s house. He lets himself in with the key he’s had for years, and calls out, “Danny?”

“Upstairs!” Danny yells down. 

He takes the stairs two at a time and bursts into Danny’s room. Danny is, predictably, on his computer doing secret nerd hacker stuff that he’d tell Stiles about if Stiles wanted to know, but this is one thing they don’t have in common. 

“What’s up?” Danny asks, leaning back in his chair. 

“Scott’s a werewolf,” Stiles blurts out. 

Danny nods and says, “That explains it.”

“What?” Stiles gapes. “I tell you my best friend is a werewolf and you’re not even surprised?!”

“I thought it was drugs, so this is a step up from that,” Danny explains. 

“A step up,” Stiles repeats. “Being a friggin’ werewolf is a step up from drugs in your book?!”

“Seems better for his health,” Danny shrugs. 

Most of the time Stiles loves Danny’s nonchalant attitude. (He’s mostly sure it’s a Hawaiian thing, because Danny’s whole family is like that.) Right now he just wants someone to panic with him and freak out with him and tell him that they can figure this out. “ _Danny_.”

Danny laughs and stands up. He tugs Stiles into a hug and says, “If you have a panic attack, I have a bag this time.”

“You do?” Stiles asks, lifting his head from Danny’s chest. 

Danny gestures towards his desk. “Got it after the last time.”

And it’s things like that that seriously make Danny the best boyfriend ever. Stiles takes a deep breath, “Okay, so my best friend’s a werewolf… Now what?”

Danny tugs him over to the bed and pushes him down onto it. “Stay,” he orders. He goes to his desk and grabs both of his laptops and walks back over, handing one to Stiles. “Research time.”

“Research,” Stiles repeats breathlessly. “I can do research.”

“We’ll compare notes when we finish,” Danny tells him. 

They spend the rest of the night researching everything there is to know about werewolves that isn’t connected to Twilight in some form or fashion. He falls asleep with his head on Danny’s shoulder and a laptop on his knees. 

-0-

When Stiles wakes up there’s a post-it note on his forehead and a matching one on Danny’s. They’re both laying down now and the laptops have been moved back to Danny’s desk. 

He reaches for the note: _Stiles, I let your dad know you’re spending the night. Pancakes for breakfast if you’re up before 11._

It’s 10:12. 

Stiles reaches over and peels the note off of Danny’s forehead as well: _Danny, next time at least get his shoes off._

He laughs and it wakes up Danny. “Wha…?” Danny mumbles, clinging tighter to Stiles. 

“Your mom,” Stiles tells him. “Come on. We have to get up if we want pancakes.”

Danny rolls over into Stiles. “Dun want pancakes, want you.”

“It’s your lucky day!” Stiles proclaims. “You get me _and_ pancakes.”

“You in the shower?” Danny asks. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Mahealani,” Stiles said. “But I’m willing to negotiate.”

The first time Stiles saw Danny naked was when they were fourteen. They’d been dating for three years and Stiles had asked and Danny had said yes. They didn’t make out naked until this summer, Danny had made a convincing argument for working up to sex. Mostly they shower together if they spend the night together, sometimes they’ll rub off on one another, or they’ll be naked for hand-jobs, but that’s as far as they’ve gone. Stiles likes to think they’re saving blow jobs for Danny’s sixteenth birthday, in February, or maybe their anniversary but he hasn’t shared that idea with Danny yet. Stiles doesn’t turn sixteen until April. He’s pretty sure it’s going to be a long two months.

“Mmm, Stiles,” Danny murmurs, kissing Stiles’s chest through his shirt. 

Danny is not a morning person. He’d told Stiles it’s because no self-respecting hacker is a morning person, but Stiles really just thinks it’s because Danny likes sleep a lot more than he likes waking up. Stiles, on the other hand, is wide awake as soon as he’s awake. When he and Danny started staying over at each other’s houses, they’d had to come to a compromise early on about the whole thing. If Stiles is up any time before Danny’s alarm goes off, he needs to either keep quiet, go back to sleep, or find something else to do that doesn’t involve waking Danny up. If Danny’s alarm goes off and Danny sleeps through it, Stiles can do whatever he wants at whatever noise level he wants to do it at. (And Danny sleeps through his alarm all the time.)

It’s Saturday, so Danny doesn’t actually have an alarm, which means that Stiles has to wait until at least 10 to make his move. Lucky for him, it’s past ten. 

He sits up and straddles Danny, bouncing a little as he does so. “Wake up, I want pancakes!”

“ _Oomph_!” Danny wheezes. “You’re totally crushing my dick.” His hands move up to rest on Stiles’s hips, holding him into place.

Stiles gives him a wink and grinds against Danny’s dick for a few seconds. “Pancaaaaakes.”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” Danny groans.

“Do you think your mom has chocolate chips?” Stiles asks. 

“You cannot talk about my mom while you’re sitting on my dick,” Danny says. “It’s a total rule.”

Stiles pushes a hand up the front of Danny’s shirt. “If you make me miss your mom’s pancakes, you’re making me some.”

“Ugh,” Danny says, because he hates cooking, even if he’s actually pretty good at it. 

“Shower, pancakes, and then we can come back and spend the rest of the day in bed,” Stiles tells him. 

“What about your werewolf problem?” Danny asks, amused. 

“It’s Scott’s werewolf problem,” Stiles says. “I’m totally taking the day off.”

Danny says, “As much as I love your plan for the day…”

Stiles finishes, “You’re hanging out with Jackson.”

“Yeah, sorry, babe,” Danny apologizes. “He’s coming over around two.”

“Doing anything fun?” Stiles asks. 

“Shopping, I think,” Danny answers. “So fun for him, less fun for me.”

“Is Lydia going?”

“She’s hanging out with that new girl.”

Stiles makes a face. “Scott is _obsessed_ with her. It’s totally going to be a thing, I can just tell.”

“Hey,” Danny says. He reaches a hand up and cups Stiles’s cheek. “It could be a good thing. Maybe you’ll feel less guilty about leaving him alone to hang out with me.”

Stiles nods, conceding his point. It’s been hard over the years to balance having a boyfriend and having a best friend, but Stiles likes to think he’s managed it pretty well. He turns his head and kisses Danny’s palm. “Pancakes?” he says. 

Danny heaves a sigh and shoves Stiles off of him and onto the floor and Stiles laughs as he stands. He pulls off his t-shirt, grinning as Danny stares at him. He throws the shirt so it lands on Danny’s face and Danny grumbles as he throws it back. His pants land on the floor but he makes sure his boxers land near Danny’s head. He strikes a pose for Danny, winking at him as he does so. “Am I going to have to reach all my hard-to-reach places by myself?”

“I hate you so much,” Danny says as he slowly pushes the blankets down the bed. 

“I really hope she has chocolate chips,” Stiles says as he pulls Danny out of bed. 

“Seriously, stop talking about my mom,” Danny begs. “I will buy you something nice at the mall if you stop talking about her while I have a boner.”

“Mets related?” Stiles asks, perking up. 

“We’ll see,” Danny says, which from him is basically a yes. He wraps his arms around Stiles’s waist and walks them to his bathroom. He briefly nuzzles the back of Stiles’s neck and reaches down to cop a feel before detaching himself from Stiles’s back to get undressed. 

-0-

“Okay, so…” Danny bites Stiles’s lip, cutting him off. “Mm, yeah,” Stiles mumbles into Danny’s mouth. 

The thing is, Stiles likes making out with Danny, but his brain isn’t as much of a fan of it. Because it keeps going. It used to really bother Danny that while they were kissing, Stiles would be thinking about a million other things--his homework, his dad, his car needing an oil change, the cat down the street--but eventually he accepted it as one of those Stiles things. 

Sometimes Stiles also tries having conversations while they’re making out. His brain is directly connected to his mouth and even though Stiles has slightly better control over what he says these days, sometimes it’s a lost cause to even try. Danny thinks the solution to this is to keep Stiles’s mouth busy, and yeah, that works pretty darn well unless Stiles actually has something to say. 

Like now. 

“Don’t be mad,” Stiles says as Danny kisses his way down Stiles’s chest. 

“K,” Danny agrees. 

“Scott totally tried to kill me today,” Stiles tells him. 

Danny pauses. “Wait, what?”

“As a wolf, though,” Stiles hurries to tell him. “Not, like, as himself.”

“Stiles. That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Danny states. 

“But I’m totally fine now, not even a scratch,” Stiles assures him. “Just, uh, you know, thought I should tell you.”

“It’s not the full moon,” Danny says. “Why was he a wolf?” 

“He kind of wolfs out?” Stiles explains. “When his heart rate increases?”

“Was this during lacrosse practice?” Danny asks. “That’s why you left?”

“…Maybe?” Stiles answers. 

Danny sits up and Stiles is momentarily distracted by his bare chest before Danny snaps at him, “Eyes up.” Stiles’s looks up at Danny’s face and sees worry and concern and anger there. “Let me get this straight. Scott starts wolfing out on the field, you decide it’s a good idea to put yourself alone in a room with him while he turns into a wolf, then he attacks you--almost kills you--but it’s not his fault because he was a wolf and not Scott?”

“…Yes?”

“Damn it, Stiles!” Danny says, standing up. “You’re playing with your _life_! Why would you leave yourself alone with a werewolf?!”

“It’s _Scott_ ,” Stiles protests. 

“You just said it wasn’t. This is…” Danny exhales. “Tomorrow, after school, we’re going to your house with Scott and he’s going to get some control over this. Your life can’t be in danger just because McCall is a shitty lacrosse player.”

“Hey!” Stiles objects. 

Danny levels him with a look. “Tomorrow, Stiles. After school.”

“You don’t have to be involved in this,” Stiles says quietly. “This is my thing, Danny. Mine and Scott’s.”

“Well, you’re _my_ thing,” Danny says. “So I do have to be involved.”

“Is it wrong that you going caveman turns me on?” Stiles asks. 

Danny grins and launches himself onto the bed. It thumps against the wall and a moment later Danny’s mom yells up the stairs, asking if they’re alright. 

“We’re fine, Mrs. Mahealani!” Stiles yells back. 

“No breaking the bed, you two!” she says. “Or Danny’s buying the new one with his own money!”

Stiles kind of loves their parents. 

-0-

Danny paces in front of them. Stiles moves his head back and forth to follow Danny until Scott elbows him and hisses, “Cut it out, you look weird.”

Scott had been surprisingly okay with Stiles telling Danny about the whole werewolf thing. He’d said it’s because Danny and Stiles are basically one person anyway. 

Stiles wonders if he and Danny have become some kind of amorphous blob. The Stilanny! He’ll have to tell Danny about it later. 

“We need to figure out something for you to focus on,” Danny says finally. “In the things that Stiles and I read, werewolves use an anchor to keep from wolfing out all over.”

“Allison,” Scott says immediately. 

“If that works for you,” Danny agrees. “So now we have to test it. Stiles and I will make you angry and your job is to think about Allison, to try and make her into your anchor.”

“Here?” Scott asks. 

“Backyard,” Danny says. He glances at Stiles. “This might be a bad idea. What if he can’t keep control?”

“I have a tennis ball,” Stiles offers. “We can see if he’ll play fetch.”

Scott whacks him in the stomach. “Dude, I’m not a dog.”

Stiles gets the tennis ball out of his room anyway. 

Danny, for all his laidbackness, turns out to be really good at egging Scott on. They get Scott to jog in place while Danny hurls insults at him (most of which Stiles is positive Danny stole from Jackson) and Stiles watches on Danny’s phone as Scott’s heart rate steadily rises. 

When it’s clear Scott is going to wolf, Stiles yells out, “Allison!” Scott pauses at her name, so Stiles says it over and over until--nothing. Scott’s heart is pounding, but he’s calm. He’s in control. And it only took… “Oh my god, we’ve been doing this for three hours,” he complains. “This werewolf stuff is totally cutting into my special boyfriend time.”

Scott makes a face. “Ew, man, totally don’t need to hear about that.”

Danny walks over and plants a kiss on Stiles’s cheek. “Them’s the breaks. Are you coming over for dinner or staying here?”

“Dad won’t be home ‘til late,” Stiles says. “So I’ll come over, if you’ve got room for one more.”

“Please,” Danny says with a roll of his eyes. “You have a key to my house, clothes in my drawers, and my mom keeps a type of cheese only you like on hand at all times.”

“Mmm,” Stiles hums happily. “Cheese.” He looks over at Scott. “We’re good here, right?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods. “I feel…different. Settled or something.”

Stiles high-fives him. “Awesome. See you at school in the morning?”

Scott nods and then takes off, back through the house and out the front door. 

“I hope that works,” Stiles mutters.

“Me, too,” Danny says. He tugs on Stiles’s hand. “Come on, mom says if we’re not home in twenty minutes she’s serving our share to the dog.”

“You don’t have a dog,” Stiles protests. 

“Neighbors do.”

“I hate that dog,” Stiles complains as they walk through the house. He grabs his backpack off the floor and follows Danny out, pausing only to lock the door. “It never shuts up.”

“We all hate that dog,” Danny agrees. “Which is why we have to be there before mom feeds it our dinner.”

“Drive fast.”

-0-

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and Danny looks up and says, “Come in.”

Jackson enters and raises his hand in greeting. “Hey, man.”

“Sup?” Danny asks. 

Jackson flops down on Danny’s bed and rubs his forehead. “Lydia’s planning this group date thing with Allison and McCall and I’m supposed to ask if you and Stiles want in on it.”

Danny stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Um, yeah,” Jackson answers. “So?”

“Stiles and I have been together for _four years_ and you’ve never once wanted to double date--triple date?--in that time,” Danny says. 

“Lydia’s persistent,” is all Jackson says. 

That’s one word for it. Danny sighs. “I’ll ask him and text you tonight. What’s the plan for it?”

“Bowling,” Jackson tells him. 

In all the years Danny has known Stiles, Stiles has never gone bowling. He wonders if Stiles even knows how to bowl. “I’ll ask,” he repeats. Jackson doesn’t look as though he’s leaving any time soon, prompting Danny to ask, “Want to play some video games?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jackson says, sitting up. “NHL 12?”

“Like you even have to ask,” Danny scoffs. 

He vid-calls Stiles later that night to ask about bowling. It takes twenty minutes for him to get a word in because Stiles rambles on about new werewolf things and about classes and Scott and everything else under the sun. Danny likes it. Stiles is so open about everything, words spilling out of his mouth faster than he can control them, giving everything he says a filterless honesty. 

Danny makes sure to smile and nod in the right places because Stiles uses his talking as a way to think things out. He doesn’t really need feedback from Danny on any of it, although he’ll take it if Danny has something to say, but generally he’s just letting off some steam. There are times he’ll directly ask Danny for input, but he’s usually considerate enough to tell Danny he wants input before expecting Danny to listen to his entire diatribe.

Stiles finally pauses for air. “So, what’s new with you?”

“You mean since you saw me last night?” Danny teases. He saw Stiles at school and at lacrosse practice, but generally school is a best-friends zone, not a boyfriend zone, so when their paths cross they don’t do much more than grin at each other. (Although the whole school knows they’re dating anyway.)

“Yep!” Stiles answers, not put off in the slightest. “It’s been a whole 24 hours! Amazing, incredible things could have happened!”

Stiles is the first and last amazing, incredible thing to happen to Danny, but he’s not going to tell his boyfriend that. “Well, Jackson asked if we wanted to double…double? date with him, Lydia, Scott, and Allison.”

“A triple date!” Stiles says excitedly. “Why have we not done this before?”

“Probably because they’re incredibly awkward and provide no alone time whatsoever?” Danny guesses. 

“Well, that and Jackson and Lydia hate me,” Stiles says absently. Danny tries not to wince. “But, sure! Sounds good. When?”

“Friday,” Danny replies. 

“We should date more,” Stiles says. “We never go out anymore. We’re totally that old married couple.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “We dated for, like, two years straight, dude. We’ve hit every restaurant in a fifty mile radius. The mini-golf place knows us by name.”

“Hey, they do!” Stiles grins. “I wonder how Ernie’s doing.”

“I’m telling Jackson yes,” Danny says, pulling out his phone. He quickly sends a text off to Jackson. 

“Are we going to that Italian place?” Stiles asks. “I miss lasagna.”

“You had lasagna last week,” Danny says dryly. 

Stiles looks outraged, “Lasagna should be had every night!” 

“I don’t know if we’re going out to eat,” Danny tells him. 

“There’s no plan?”

“There’s a plan, just… Do you bowl?” he asks. 

Stiles’s image freezes on the camera. “As in bowling?”

“Yeah.”

“Not since… Not since my mom died,” Stiles answers, looking away. “She loved to bowl.”

Danny reaches out towards the screen and stops short before he touches it. “Stiles…”

“It’s cool,” Stiles says. “No biggie. I like bowling.”

“Are you sure?” Danny asks. “I can see if Jackson can get Lydia to do something else.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles says. “I mean, you’ll be there, so I’ll be okay.”

Danny cracks a smile at that. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Stiles responds. 

“I wanna see you before first period tomorrow,” Danny tells him. “So don’t wander off with Scott, okay?”

“K,” Stiles agrees. “I’ll be at my locker.” He yawns. “I think I might turn in early tonight.”

“Sleep over tomorrow?” Danny asks. “Stay through the weekend.”

“My dad will be home tomorrow night for dinner,” Stiles tells him. “But, he’ll be gone around eight, I think. I can come over after?”

“Can I come home with you? I’ll help you cook,” Danny offers. “And you can drive us back to my place after.”

“Jackson driving you to school?”

“Yeah,” Danny nods. 

Stiles smiles. “Okay.” He yawns again. “Goodnight, Danny.”

“Night, Stiles.”

Danny waits for Stiles to end the call before he logs out. He feels giddy inside at the idea of having Stiles sleep with him for the next four nights. Once again he says a silent thanks that their parents are so okay with them sleeping over all the time. That had been an uncomfortable conversation between him, Stiles, Stiles’s dad, and Danny’s parents, but in the end it ended with them handing over an incredible amount of trust to Stiles and Danny. 

He shoots Jackson off a text telling him to pick him up in the morning and then goes back to chatting with some of his friends online. 

-0-

Stiles looks awful when Danny sees him the next morning and Danny knew he would. Whenever they talk about Stiles’s mom, Stiles ends up with nightmares that leave him exhausted. 

Danny doesn’t see Scott when he approaches Stiles. He assumes the other kid is with Allison, and Danny feels vaguely annoyed that Scott ditched Stiles when it’s clear he’s not up to par.

“Hey,” he says quietly, when he reaches his boyfriend. 

“Hey,” Stiles greets. His bottom lip trembles, just a little and that’s all the invitation Danny needs to pull him into a hug. He turns them around so that Stiles’s face isn’t exposed to the rest of the hallway--kids are curious even now, four years after they started dating. Someday Danny hopes to be old news to everyone. 

Eventually Stiles pushes away, taking in huge gulps of air. “I’m okay.”

“You are,” Danny agrees. 

He watches with a frown as Stiles pastes on his normal smile over the top of everything else he’s feeling. If Danny didn’t know him so well he’d say nothing is wrong. Too bad Danny knows him intimately. 

Danny slides his hand down Stiles’s arm and locks their fingers together. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you to class.”

“You aren’t going to carry my books, too?” Stiles asks with a grin. 

Danny gives a pointed look towards Stiles’s empty hands. “If you had any to carry.”

“I have my backpack,” Stiles protests.

“And you have your shoulders,” Danny tells him. 

“Feelin’ the love,” Stiles sighs. 

Danny leans in close. “You can feel it tonight, if you’re good.”

“Oh my god!” Stiles crows. “Were you just sex talking me up? You totally were, weren’t you! Oh my god, dirty talk! I’m getting dirty talk!”

Danny doesn’t face-palm, but it’s a close thing. “Now that the entire hallway knows…”

Stiles looks around, but his enthusiasm doesn’t dwindle. “How long have you able to do dirty talk? Why haven’t you used it before? Can you use it tonight? Will it get dirtier?”

“I really don’t think innuendo counts as dirty talk,” Danny tells him. “But I can, uh, try? If you want. Later. Tonight.”

“I want,” Stiles says. “I really, really want. Make this happen, Daniel!”

Danny laughs. “We’ll see.” They stop outside of Stiles’s classroom and Danny leans in to give him a kiss on the check. 

“I think you missed,” Stiles pouts. 

“Later,” Danny says. He gives Stiles’s hand a squeeze. “Feel better,” he says into Stiles’s ear. 

Stiles nods. “Thanks, Danny.”

“Any time,” Danny promises. 

When Danny slides into his seat in history class next to Jackson, Jackson turns to him, smirks, and says, “So, dirty talk, huh?”

Danny groans and leans forward until his head touches the desk. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is this something you do often, or do you save it for school?” Jackson asks. 

“Fuck my life,” Danny mutters.

-0-

“Maybe I should wait in the car,” Stiles says. “I’m a werewolf sidekick. We’re supposed to wait in the car. Like, all the time. Maybe now would be a good time to do that.”

“Okay, first of all, you never wait in the car,” Danny says. “Second of all, if you don’t want to bowl, no one is going to make you and third of all, I’m perfectly fine with driving you home if you want to go.” He reaches out and grabs Stiles’s hands, holding them in his own. “Just take a minute and if you’re still not okay, we can leave. I’ll tell them I’m not feeling well, okay?”

Stiles leans forward and rests his forehead on Danny’s shoulder. Danny lets go of his hands to tug Stiles closer. One hand cups the back of Stiles’s neck and the other winds around his waist. Stiles turns his head so that his face is smashed into the side of Danny’s neck. “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, Danny.”

“Geezus, Stiles,” Danny says. “Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry about something like this.”

“She loved to bowl,” Stiles says. “Was so good at it. My dad and I couldn’t keep up, but we tried. She had her own ball and her own shoes… We all did.”

“Let me guess, yours was red?” Danny supposes.

“Yep, best color,” Stiles mumbles.

Danny pulls back a little and looks Stiles in the eye, “Hey, let’s get out of here. We’ll go get ice cream and some curly fries and go home and watch a movie. I’ll let you steal the blanket.”

“Burgers, too?” Stiles asks. He’s already relaxing at the thought of spending a night in with Danny. 

“Burgers, too,” Danny agrees. 

“Danny!” Jackson yells from the door. “Are you coming?”

“Let me talk to him for a sec,” Danny says. He passes his keys to Stiles. “Start the car?”

“Sure?” Stiles checks. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Twenty minutes later, Stiles is surrounded by curly fries and burgers and a giant tub of ice cream. He tilts sideways until he’s leaning up against Danny and Danny gets the hint to wrap his arm around Stiles’s shoulder. 

“We should put the movie on,” Danny says. 

Stiles passes him a curly fry. “In a minute.” He pokes at his burger. “Was Jackson mad?”

“Nah, I don’t think he cared,” Danny answers. “You know how he is.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

Danny reaches around him for the ice cream, abandoning his own burger. “What are we gonna do for our anniversary this year?”

They officially celebrate their anniversary on Valentine’s day. Ostensibly because that’s when they first made overtures towards each other, but Stiles thinks it’s probably because neither of them could remember it otherwise. 

“Do you want to go out?” Stiles asks. 

“Mm, cook me something?” Danny counters. “That Bolognese pasta you make.”

“Sure,” he says. “Dessert?”

Danny kisses him on the shoulder. “Same as always.”

“You, Mr. Mahealani, are too sentimental,” Stiles tells him. He turns and kisses Danny, soft and gentle. 

Danny deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue against Stiles’s. “Mmm. Not sentimental,” he says, giving Stiles another kiss. “Just a fool in love.”

“Best.” Kiss. “Fool.” Kiss. “Ever.” Kiss.

-0-

“Yello!” Stiles answers, holding his phone up to his ear. 

“It’s me,” Danny says. 

Stiles brings his phone down to glance at the number and then puts it back. “Where are you calling from?”

“Jackson’s phone,” Danny replies. “Mine died.”

“You really need to stop surfing the web in history,” Stiles tells him. “It kills batteries dead.”

“Shut up,” Danny says. “Can you come pick me up? I’m stranded at Jackson’s house.”

“He can’t give you a ride?” Stiles asks, already grabbing his keys off his desk. 

“He and Lydia are busy fighting about something,” Danny says. “Could be hours before they come up for air.”

“No problem,” Stiles says. “Be there in fifteen.”

“Thanks,” Danny says. 

Stiles hangs up and slides down the railing of the stairs and runs out the door. He manages to hit every red light on the way to Jackson’s house, so it takes twenty minutes instead of the promised fifteen. It’s dark outside when he pulls up, street lights spaced too far apart to do much. 

Danny is waiting on the steps when Stiles pulls up. He smiles when he sees Stiles. “Hey,” Danny says, opening the passenger door. “Thanks for this.”

Stiles leans over for a quick kiss. “You’re welcome. Was just sitting at home pondering the meaning of life.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be hanging out with Scott?”

“That was purely a possibility, never a reality. He went over to Allison’s to study or something,” Stiles tells him. “It’s cool, though, gave me some Stiles alone time.”

“You hate being alone,” Danny points out. 

“I do!” Stiles agrees. “But it builds character. I mean, look at Thoreau! He spent loads of time alone…just him and his pond…and maybe a dog or something…and he has lots of character!”

“I think you have plenty of character alre--”

“Damn it, Isaac! You were supposed to take the garbage out!” 

Stiles snaps his head to the side, looking at the house across the street from Jackson’s. “Is that Isaac Lahey’s house?”

“Yeah,” Danny confirms. “His dad is pretty loud sometimes.”

“He seems really angry,” Stiles observes. He can see two bodies, shadowed against the curtains. He flinches when one hits the other. “He…”

“I think Jackson’s parents called Social Services once,” Danny says. “But they didn’t do anything. That was awhile ago, though.”

“His dad hit him,” Stiles whispers. “ _Danny_.”

Danny reaches across the seats to grabs Stiles’s hand. “Isaac won’t talk to anyone, Stiles. I’ve tried. Hell, I think Jackson tried once. He keeps denying there’s a problem.”

“He’s a _kid_ ,” Stiles argues. “This isn’t… _Danny_.” 

“I know,” Danny sighs. “We can talk to your dad, but Stiles, it might make things worse.”

“Worse?” Stiles gapes. He turns to face his boyfriend. “His dad’s abusing him, Danny.”

Danny nods. “And Isaac obviously thinks that foster care would be worse.”

“He’s scared.”

“That’s part of it,” Danny agrees. “But you can’t go rushing into this, Stiles. This is someone’s _life_.”

“I’ll talk to my dad tonight,” Stiles says. “But I won’t name names. Just… I’ll see what he would do.”

“Be careful,” Danny warns.

“I’ll be the most careful person on the planet,” Stiles tells him. “Even more careful than the dude who has to disarm bombs for a living.”

Danny shakes his head and squeezes Stiles’s hand. “Home, James.”

“You know I love role-playing,” Stiles says, taking his Jeep out of park. They drive away from Jackson’s--and Isaac’s--house and Stiles can’t help but feel slightly apprehensive about the whole thing, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Hey, Dad?” Stiles asks later that night. His dad is looking over files at the dining room table and Stiles is doing homework on the opposite end, trying to sneak peeks at what his dad is working on. 

His dad looks up. “Yes, Stiles?” 

Stiles fidgets with his highlighter, randomly swiping it across the top of his notes. “Um. If there were… Like, if someone was… What do you do when…” he sighs. 

“You’re going to need to finish at least one of those, kid,” his dad says wryly. “Is this about Danny?”

“Danny?” Stiles asks. “What? No, Danny’s fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine with that. Someday we’ll get married and have babies and they’ll be part Danny and part Stiles no matter what you say and then they can babble in Hawaiian, or whatever it is that Danny speaks sometimes that no one else can understand and they’ll be super awesome kids beca--”

His dad holds up his hand. “So if it’s not Danny, what’s this about?”

Stiles takes a deep breath. “What do you do if you know someone’s being abused?”

A frown overtakes his dad’s face. “Stiles, if you know something--”

“I don’t,” Stiles says quickly. “Just, like, hypothetically…”

“There are different kinds of abuse,” the Sheriff says. “I suppose it depends on what I’m looking at. If it’s spousal--”

“Child,” Stiles supplies. “Child abuse.”

“Stiles, if you know someone--”

“I don’t!” Stiles repeats, trying to sound sincere. “But if I did…”

“Well, that’s not really my department,” his dad says. “But I’d call the right people and they’d check it out and if it looks like the parent is abusing the child, we’d remove the child from the parents’ custody and find some temporary placement for him while things get worked out.”

“Temporary custody with…the state?” Stiles asks. 

“Child Protective Services places kids where they can, Stiles. I’m not exactly an expert in their procedures, though, kid. You want to tell me what this is about?” he asks. 

“We have a spare room,” Stiles says. “No one uses it, someone could stay there.”

The Sheriff sighs. “Stiles I can’t just harbor a kid in my home.”

“What if he--”

“He?”

“--he filed for emancipation?” Stiles asks. “He has a job, and he’s sixteen. He’d just need a place to stay.”

His dad rubs his forehead. “Is this about the Lahey kid?” 

Stiles tries not to let the shock show on his face. “Um, no! Not at all! Why would it be about Isaac? I mean, I barely know the guy. Sure he’s on the lacrosse team, but he keeps to himself, you know? Not many friends… But not because he’s antisocial and scared of people finding out he’s abused! It’s because he prefers to be alone. Some people do, it’s totally normal. Danny likes to be alone some of the time, and I let him have his space. Just because someone doesn’t have friends and doesn’t talk to people and is alone a lot doesn’t mean that their parents are beating them! You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, then you have to swim through the sea of knowledge to get back.”

His dad blinks. “I have to what now? Swim where?”

“It’s a book,” Stiles says. “They made us read it in middle school.” Stiles closes up his textbooks and his notebooks. “You know what? I just remembered that Danny is supposed to call. It’s been great!” He stands up and pushes his chair back, collecting his books. “Talk to you later!” 

He runs up the stairs and breathes a sigh of relief when his door closes behind him. Stiles hadn’t expected his dad to figure out who he was talking about. He wonders if that means something. 

The next morning there are forms for filing for emancipation for a minor as well as a list of steps to go through to make it happen. It doesn’t look easy, but Stiles wants to do this, even if he doesn’t know Isaac. He doesn’t need to to know that no one should have to live the way he does. 

-0-

_  
_

Blood spurts everywhere and all Stiles can see are limbs. Body parts line the floors and the counters and blood seeps from each of them. 

__

“Do it. Do it, Stiles, now.”

__

“No, you can’t make me!” 

“You need to. Do it.”

“No!”

“No!” Stiles yells, bolting upright. He’s breathing heavily and his heart feels as though it might leap out of his chest. 

“Stiles?” Danny asks sleepily. He reaches out blindly, hand flopping onto Stiles’s lap. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stiles tells him. “Go back to sleep, Danny.”

“Nightmare?” Danny asks. 

Stiles shakes his head and tries to calm himself down. “No, I’m fine.”

Danny’s hand moves away and then Stiles hears the lamp by the bed click on. He covers his face with his hands and resists when Danny tries to pry them free. “Stiles.”

“Just… Oh my god, what if I had really cut off Derek’s arm?” Stiles asks. “There would be so much blood.”

“You should have called me,” Danny says for the tenth time that night. 

“So you could cut it off instead of me?” Stiles asks. “I’ll pass.”

“He can’t get away with threatening you like that whenever he needs you to do something,” Danny scowls. And yeah, there’s even less love lost between Danny and Derek than there is between Stiles and Derek and Danny hasn’t even met the werewolf. 

“He was dying,” Stiles says. “People do pretty drastic things when they’re dying.”

“No excuse,” Danny holds. “Geezus, you’re shaking. Come here,” he says, tugging Stiles into him. Stiles goes willingly, burying his face in Danny’s chest. 

“We’re in over our heads,” Stiles whispers. “Derek knows things but he’s not willing to share, Scott doesn’t want to know things anyway, there are Hunters out there trying to kill my best friend, I’m lying to my dad about everything and I’ve never lied to my dad, a werewolf has tried to kill me, another one threatened to rip my throat out… Fuck, Danny, what the hell is my life?”

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Tomorrow’s Saturday, we’ll get up, eat breakfast and then come back up here and make some to-do lists,” Danny says. “We’ll divide and conquer our problems. Which, by the way, I’m adding Jackson to my list, because he’s been kind of weird lately.”

“How can you tell?” Stiles grumbles. 

“Be nice,” Danny tells him. “We’ll work stuff out, Stiles. Maybe we need to track Derek down and have a friendly conversation with him about stuff, like who it’s appropriate to threaten.”

“My hero,” Stiles says in a falsetto. 

Danny hugs him tighter. “Think you can sleep some more?”

“Brain’s kind of already started on to those to-do lists,” Stiles admits. 

A warm hand moves up to rest on Stiles’s back, right above his boxers. “Tell me,” Danny orders. His fingers start tracing words into Stiles’s skin. 

The lists slip away as Stiles tries to figure out what Danny’s writing. Soon all he can focus on are the letters forming and the words they create. He falls asleep in the middle of what he’s sure would spell out _destiny_. 

-0-

“Go away, Stiles.”

Danny frowns. “I’m not Stiles.”

A figure emerges from the shadows of the Hale house. He looks strong, dangerous, and broken. A deadly combination. “You smell like him.”

Danny lifts his arm up and sniffs his sweatshirt sleeve. It smells like the detergent his mom uses. “Okay,” he accepts, lowering his arm. 

Derek--and it can only be Derek Hale--glowers at Danny. “Brothers?”

“What?” Danny laughs. “Me and Stiles? I think you need your eyes checked, man.”

“Could be adopted,” is what Derek says. 

“Guess we could be,” Danny concedes. “We definitely aren’t brothers, though. He’s my boyfriend.”

Derek hesitates, “People don’t usually smell so much like the person they’re dating.”

Danny shrugs. “Most people probably haven’t been dating for four years. I think by then they’re already walking down the aisle.”

The werewolf gives him an estimating look, the same look Danny and Stiles always get when someone new finds out how long they’ve been together. Generally Danny thinks they’re guessing ages and counting backwards. He really wishes age wasn’t such a big deal. He met Stiles when he was eleven, so what? They just started loving each other early. 

“I’m Danny,” he says finally. 

“What do you want?” Derek asks bluntly. 

“We can start with you not threatening my boyfriend and then go from there,” Danny says firmly. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t care if you’re dying, maimed, or living on to be Nearly Headless Derek, you don’t get to threaten Stiles.”

“He wasn’t going to help,” Derek bites out. 

“Did you even try asking him?” Danny asks. “Because I know him and Stiles has a hard time saying no to anyone, much less someone bleeding out all over his Jeep.”

Derek argues, “He didn’t sound very receptive to helping me.”

“He gets snippy when he’s panicked,” Danny says. “Don’t take it to heart.”

Derek looks past Danny for a moment. “Did he send you here?”

“I volunteered,” Danny answers. “We spent all day yesterday coming up with questions we need answered about this werewolf stuff, among other things, so I’m here for answers.”

“No.”

“Look, man,” Danny says. “You’re in a bad place, I get that, but you need someone on your side. Scott isn’t going to join you, not as long as he’s infatuated with Allison, no matter what you think.”

“And Stiles will?” Derek asks dubiously, raising an eyebrow. 

“…Probably not,” Danny concedes. “But he’s willing to hear you out and to stop making snap judgments about everything you do. At the very least he can stop throwing you under a bus just because you creep him out.”

“No.” Derek turns around, obviously intending to head back inside. 

“I know what it’s like to lose a sibling,” Danny says quietly. “You’ve lost more than I ever have, but this is something you’re still dealing with. Stiles told me everything. It’s only been a few weeks, right? If that. I doubt you’ve even had time to mourn her.”

“Shut up,” Derek growls, turning around. His eyes flash blue. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“My younger brother died when I was nine,” Danny offers. “He got sick one day and he didn’t get better. It took meeting Stiles for me to even begin to feel alright again. But you have no one. Hell, man, you don’t even have a place to stay that hasn’t been condemned. Right now, the whole town is against you and all you’re trying to do is figure out who murdered your sister. We can help.”

“I don’t need your help,” Derek grinds out. 

“Up to you,” Danny says easily. “Come by sometime, if you want. Stew here in your anger if you don’t.” He turns around and heads for his car. Danny pauses with his hand on the door handle. He turns back to face Derek. “But I’m serious about you threatening Stiles. If you think your life is hard now, threaten him one more time, I dare you.”

In the blink of an eye Derek is standing in front of him. “I’m not scared of you.”

“I’m not a scary guy,” Danny allows. “But I can put up so many roadblocks in your way, you’ll regret ever talking to him.” He opens his door. “Think about it,” he says before getting in his car. For a moment Derek stops him from closing the door, holding onto it tightly, but Danny yanks one more time and he lets it go. Danny gives him a nod as he starts the car and drives away. 

-0-

“Do you think I’m attractive to gay men?” Stiles asks as he takes the seat next to Danny in the cafeteria. 

Danny looks up from his food and at Stiles. He blinks. 

“Go away, Stilinski,” Jackson says across from him. 

“Um, no,” Stiles says. “Lydia sits here, so Allison sits here, so Scott sits here, so I sit here.”

“Yes,” Danny says suddenly. 

“Really?” Stiles grins. 

“If you’re going to be gross,” Jackson groans. “Be gross somewhere else.”

“At least we don’t make out all over school like you and Lydia,” Stiles snarks. “We could be grosser.” He leans in closer to Danny. 

Danny laughs and pushes Stiles away gently. “Later,” is all he says. 

Scott and Allison take the seats next to Jackson and a few seconds later Lydia sits on Jackson’s other side. It’s kind of nice, Stiles thinks, to be able to sit with his best friend _and_ his boyfriend at lunch. Especially when Danny hooks their ankles together under the table. 

“Does anyone know any good movies out?” Lydia polls the table. “Jackson and I are renting again tonight.”

Stiles leans in close to Danny. “They rent?”

“Jackson never figured out the download site,” Danny whispers back. 

“You can buy movies on iTunes now. Please tell me he’s figured out iTunes,” Stiles begs. 

Danny gives him a tiny smirk. “ _Inception_?” he suggests. 

Lydia makes a face. “No, thank you.”

“ _Social Network_?” Allison offers. “ _King’s Speech_?”

“We saw those,” Lydia says. 

“ _Easy A_?” Allison tries again. 

“ _Red_ ,” Stiles puts in. 

“Seen them both,” Lydia sighs. “Guess it’s my pick!”

Jackson groans. “No, not again.”

Danny leans back over. “Ten bucks they end up watch _The Notebook_ again.”

Stiles shudders. “That sounds terrible. Also you have insider information, no bet.”

Across the table, Lydia purses her lips together and does something with her eyes and Jackson crumples just a little and Stiles knows she’s won. He’s kind of infinitely glad that he and Danny have the same taste in pretty much everything. 

“You busy tonight?” Danny asks. 

“Hanging with my dad,” Stiles answers. “He’s working, but I’m bringing him dinner on the job.”

“Skype me after?” Danny questions. 

Stiles nods. “Definitely.”

-0-

Stiles bounces his knee as he waits for the connection to load. The black of the camera slowly gives way to Danny’s face. “Hey,” Danny greets. 

“Oh my god!” Stiles yells. “Dude, I have everything to tell you. There was a murder at the video store tonight and Jackson and Lydia were there and Jackson might have a concussion or something!”

“What?” Danny asks. “Just a concussion? What about Lydia?”

“May not even be a thing,” Stiles dismisses. “He said he was fine. Lydia was in the car, she’s okay, too. Maybe traumatized or something? My dad made me stay in the car. But there was totally a dead body, probably the guy who works there. They said it looked like another animal attack…which is definitely code for werewolf. Do you think Derek’s running around killing people or is it the Alpha?”

“I can’t imagine Derek wants any attention brought to himself right now, not after you and Scott accused him of murder,” Danny points out. 

“Mmm…yeah. So probably the Alpha,” Stiles concludes. “But why the video store? I bet he forgot his rewards card.”

“Stiles,” Danny says seriously. He looks into the camera. “Do not go chasing Alpha werewolves.”

“I won’t!” Stiles objects. “But maybe I can ask Dere--”

“ _Stiles_.”

Stiles huffs. “Fine. I won’t ask Derek either.”

“If you die before we even get married…” Danny threatens. 

Stiles feels his chest tighten. _Married_ is a word Danny’s never said to him before. “I won’t,” Stiles chokes out. “I won’t get involved, Danny.”

“Good,” Danny says firmly. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about? You texted me something about money earlier?”

“Oh!” Stiles exclaims. “Yeah, how much money do you have?”

“On me? Or in life?” Danny asks. 

“Currently how much do you have,” Stiles clarifies. 

Danny shifts uneasily. “Some of it wasn’t exactly obtained legally.”

“Can they trace it back to you?”

“Definitely not,” Danny assures him.

“So?” Stiles asks. “How much?”

“A few…hundred…” Danny says slowly. 

“Dude, you’re worried about a few hundred bucks?” Stiles asks. 

“…thousand,” Danny finishes. 

Stiles tries not to look like a fish out of water. “What?! When you say illegally gained… You’re not a high-class call boy or something are you?”

Danny sputters, “No! It’s from, um, some hacking jobs I’ve done. And only like, maybe ten percent is ill-gotten. The rest is legit. Companies contract out to hackers all the time--they pay us to try and get into their systems and when we do, they pay us to fix their systems. Our skills don’t come cheap.”

“I’m totally becoming your kept man,” Stiles tells him. “I hope you know that.”

Danny smiles. “Fine with me.” He scratches his neck. “So why the sudden curiosity about my finances?”

“I need a lawyer,” Stiles confesses. “And I only have a few grand and I know that won’t go very far.”

This time it’s Danny who looks surprised. “Where did you get that much money?”

Stiles coughs. “Fantasy baseball? I may have used my dad’s info…”

“It’s kind of refreshing that after four years together there are still things we don’t know about each other,” Danny says. 

“Wouldn’t want the relationship going stale,” Stiles grins. 

“So, what do you need a lawyer for?”

“It’s all this stuff for Isaac,” Stiles explains. “I’m still wading through everything we’d need, but it’s pretty clear we need a lawyer.”

Danny sighs. “You’re so dumb, Stilinski. My mother’s a lawyer and she’d do it pro-bono.”

Stiles perks up. “Really?” 

“Yes, really. Even if it wasn’t you asking, she’d still do it for free,” Danny says. “I can’t believe you didn’t even think of asking her.”

“I didn’t want to take advantage--”

Danny snorts. “I’m telling her you said that.”

“She’s going to withhold the pancakes isn’t she,” Stiles sighs. 

“For at least a month,” Danny agrees. “You know you need to talk to Isaac, sooner rather than later, right?”

“Yes,” Stiles says sullenly. He drums his fingers on his desk. “Can I stay over tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Danny replies. “Hey, you know you have me, right? You don’t need to do everything by yourself, Stiles.”

“I know,” Stiles acknowledges. “Oh! This weekend…four whole years.” Valentine’s day is technically Monday, but they’re celebrating this weekend for it. 

Danny’s face sports entirely too goofy a smile for it. “Four whole years,” he echoes. “…Which means you need to stay out of trouble until then.”

“I will!” Stiles tells him. 

Danny looks dubious. “Uh-huh.”

“I will…try?” Stiles offers instead. 

“Try hard,” Danny tells him. 

“The hardest,” Stiles agrees. 

“Good. Now, talk to Derek, text me before bed so I know he didn’t eat you, and don’t stay up all night.”

“Huh?” Stiles asks. “Derek?”

Danny gestures to something behind Stiles and when Stiles turns his head, sure enough, Derek’s lounging in a corner of his room as though he’s needed to hold up the walls. 

“That’s way creepy, dude,” Stiles tells Derek. He turns back to Danny. “I’ll text you. Goodnight!”

“Night,” Danny answers. He reaches out to end the call and the screen goes black. 

Stiles spins his chair to face Derek. “Have you eaten?”

Derek actually looks surprised for once. “What?”

“Food,” Stiles says slowly. He mimics someone eating. “Have you had some tonight?” He gets up and leaves Derek alone in his room, heading for the kitchen. 

Derek definitely looks like a guy who eats a lot, Stiles thinks. He pulls out a large pot and dumps some water in it, turning the burner on. He sets the pot on the stove and goes about gathering ingredients. 

“What are you doing?” a voice demands. 

Stiles doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing. He grabs the ground turkey out of the freezer before he turns around. “I’m making you some dinner. Is that alright, Your Highness?”

“You’re…what?” Derek asks. And for the first time he looks like more than just the guy who’s ruining Scott’s life. The guy who won’t give them answers. He looks…young. His age. Stiles feels a pang of sympathy for him. He thinks Derek wants things to be like this even less than Scott. 

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Stiles says. “You like Italian, right?” He squints a little. “I remember seeing your family at an Italian restaurant once when we were little. You had two toddlers with you, right, dude? There was spaghetti sauce _everywhere_.”

Derek’s hands clench into fists and he turns away from Stiles. “You didn’t know them,” he growls out. “Don’t pretend to.”

“I knew Madison,” Stiles says quietly. “She was in my grade.” He goes back to cooking, sticking the turkey in the microwave to thaw it out. He grabs a jar of sauce and puts it on to simmer on one of the back burners, adding some garlic and tomato paste to it to make it thicker. 

He’s in the middle of rolling up some meatballs when Derek says, “The boy who never shut up.”

Stiles blinks and turns his head to find Derek staring at him. “What?”

“That’s what she called you. She said there was a boy in her class who never shut up, but she said you were funny so it was okay,” Derek says quietly. 

Memories rush over him. Madison had been small for her age, but was always so happy. She laughed all the time, smiling and hugging people. She had hugged him once a day for three months after his mom died. Somehow she always smelled like the woods. Stiles knows now why that probably was. 

He finishes cooking in silence and when he thrusts a large plate full of spaghetti and meatballs towards Derek, the other man accepts it. 

Derek eats like a starving man. Stiles watches as the entire plate is cleaned in four minutes. (He counted.) Derek doesn’t protest when Stiles takes the plate and piles the rest of the food he made onto it. That disappears as fast as the first plateful did. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t have dinner tonight,” Stiles says finally. 

He brings out a carton of low-fat ice cream and scoops out some for both of them. Derek takes his time with dessert and Stiles wouldn’t have pegged him as a vanilla person, but he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it anyway. 

“Danny says you guys talked,” Stiles says, making conversation. He finished his ice cream about five minutes ago. Derek is still only halfway through his. 

“Yeah,” Derek answers. “He smells like you.”

“Really?” Stiles asks. “That’s pretty cool. Do we smell like Armani?”

Derek looks up from his ice cream. “What?”

“Danny’s aftershave,” Stiles explains. “I bought it for him a couple of years ago on his birthday and he liked it, so now I always get him some. It’s kind of a cop out, but he likes it and I like the smell so it’s a win-win, right? And it’s pretty hard to shop for the guy, anyways. Danny isn’t like, into _things_ , you know? He likes his computer stuff, yeah, but I think we both agreed I’d leave the buying of that stuff to him after the third USB stick I bought him shaped like a TARDIS.”

“Third?” Derek asks. 

“I kept forgetting I got them for him,” Stiles admits. “And then I’d see them at the store and they’re just so _cool_ , right? So I’d get him another. It just kind of happened, okay? Don’t judge.”

Derek stares at him and then says, grudgingly, “Ten is best.”

“Did you just--” Stiles gapes. “Oh my god, you did.”

“He said you have questions,” Derek says, ignoring him. 

“The Doctor?”

“Your…boyfriend,” Derek glares. 

Stiles jumps up out of his seat. “Questions! Yes! So many. Does this mean you’re going to answer them? Dude, and all it took was some food? I would have brought you a friggin’ buffet if I’d known that. Did Danny convince you? He does that. He seems so _hang loose_ but before you know it he has you base-jumping with him in the middle of freakin’ nowhere.”

“No,” Derek interrupts.

“No?”

“He didn’t convince me,” Derek says. 

“Uh-huh. Anyway, they’re all upstairs,” Stiles tells him. “I can get them or we can go up.”

Derek brings his ice cream with him to Stiles’s room. 

“I’m logging Danny back in,” Stiles says, clicking the button to call through his computer. “That way I don’t have to repeat everything.”

“Fine,” Derek says with a shrug. He sits down on Stiles’s bed, leaning up against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. 

“At least take your shoes off,” Stiles tells him. 

“My shoes are off,” Danny says. 

“I meant Derek,” Stiles grins. “Hi, again. Any chance you’ll take something else off?”

In the background he can hear Derek choking on his ice cream. Danny smirks, “Tomorrow night.”

“Yay me!” Stiles says excitedly. 

Danny coughs. “What’s up?”

“Derek’s gonna answer questions, I didn’t want to go through it all twice, so I called you so you could hear it the first time,” Stiles says. He glances at Derek and then surreptitiously mouths ‘record this’ into the camera. 

“He had a change of heart?” Danny asks. 

“Or a lobotomy,” Stiles nods. 

“I can hear you, you know,” Derek glowers from his place on the bed. 

“We know,” Stiles assures him. He flips his notebook to the right page. “Okay, first: since you’re not Alpha and your uncle is the only one left in your pack, that makes him Alpha, right?”

Derek eyes him. “Right.”

“Even if he’s in long term care?” Stiles presses. “How does that work? Don’t packs need an active Alpha?”

“We’re hardly a pack at this point,” Derek scoffs. 

“Laura was Alpha before, right?” Stiles asks. 

“Yes,” Derek bites out. 

“Was it always going to be her over your uncle? Even though he’s older? Or did it go to her because he was unable to perform as Alpha?” Stiles poses. 

Derek frowns even more than he was frowning before. “I’m…not sure.”

Stiles takes a deep breath. “We think your uncle might be the Alpha,” he says. Derek starts to protest but Stiles holds up his hand to stave him off. “Listen, Derek. Your sister died, but you aren’t Alpha. The argument can be made that someone else killed her and became Alpha, but wouldn’t they be your Alpha, too? You wouldn’t need Scott to feel a connection to them, you would have one yourself…unless you already had one. And if I were another Alpha on another pack’s territories, I’d for sure be going after the easier targets--such as your uncle who is sitting unguarded in a long term care facility.”

“I’ve visited him,” Derek says. “He’s unresponsive in a wheel chair.”

Stiles sighs. “Like this?” He goes limp and stares at the wall behind Derek. After a few moments he perks back up. “Anyone could do that, Derek.”

“But why kill Laura?” Derek asks in a pained voice. 

“Revenge,” Danny says from the computer. “He knew the Argents were responsible for the demise of your family and he also knew that you and Laura had left town, that you, for whatever reason, hadn’t extracted revenge. Peter’s been sitting in the long term care place for years just thinking up ways to pay them back for what they did. He needed power, though, and I think it’s fair to say the dude isn’t firing on all cylinders. He figured out the easiest way to get power was to be the Alpha. He probably thought Laura was failing in her duty to your family and killed her so he could get revenge the way the Hale Alpha should.”

“We had no proof,” Derek says, looking at his hands, wringing them together. “We knew it was Kate Argent, but we didn’t think the other Argents had anything to do with it, and we couldn’t prove Kate did anyway. There were only two of us, if we’d gone after her, the Argents would have killed us, too.”

Stiles crosses the room and sits down on the bed next to Derek. He reaches out and grabs Derek’s hands in his. “No one is blaming you. Your uncle is crazy, end of story. And you’re right that there’s still a chance he isn’t the Alpha, but I think the odds are in his favor on this.”

Derek swallows. “You want me to kill him.”

“We want you to watch him,” Danny corrects. “Stake out his care place, maybe do some digging on his nurse or whatever, because the guy can’t really be doing all of this on his own.”

“And if it’s not him?” Derek demands. “What if I’m watching him while the Alpha hurts someone else?”

“Derek,” Stiles says gently. “Think logically here. You have no idea who the other Alpha might be. There’s no way to prevent him from hurting someone else, we can only get there after. But if it really is your uncle, we might be able to do something about it.”

“Like kill him,” Derek finishes. 

“The Argents could,” Stiles suggests carefully. “If they knew it was him.”

“My pack, my problem,” Derek says fiercely. 

“Are you worried they’ll come after you again?” Stiles asks. 

Derek shrugs and pulls his hands out of Stiles’s. “Not much to live for anyway,” he says quietly. He stands up and heads for the window. 

“What about Scott?” Stiles demands. “You can’t leave him to become an omega alone. He doesn’t know anything about being a werewolf.”

Derek pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and sets it on Stiles’s dresser. “E-mail me your other questions, I’ll try to answer them if I can.”

Stiles springs up from the bed and grabs the back of Derek’s jacket. “Danny and I can help you.”

“Don’t get mixed up in this,” Derek says, not turning around. “I know you’re going to anyway, but just think about everyone else this affects. Your dad, Danny’s parents, your friends…”

“ _Scott_ is my friend,” Stiles points out. 

“And if he keeps hanging out with an Argent, he won’t live long enough to regret it,” Derek bites out. “She may be innocent now, but she won’t be forever. This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, Stiles, this is _life_ and when hunters enter the equation, werewolves die. Scott is a werewolf whether he accepts that or not, just like his girlfriend is a hunter whether she knows it or not. If you really want to help, get him to stop thinking with his dick or his heart and get him to start listening to his brain.”

With that, Derek launches himself through the window and silently lands on the ground below. Stiles watches as he walks down the street to his car and drives away. 

“Stiles…” Danny says quietly through his speakers. Stiles sighs and turns around. He sits back down at his desk and props his head up on his hand, staring at Danny’s face on his monitor. “He’s not wrong,” Danny says. “About Scott and Allison.”

“It doesn’t do us much good if everyone knows that but Scott,” Stiles says. “You know how he is.”

Danny nods. “What do you think Derek will do?”

“I think he’ll keep an eye on his uncle for now.” It’s kind of hard to tell with Derek, though he was a lot more forthcoming tonight than Stiles had thought he’d be. 

“I feel kind of bad for him,” Danny admits. “If his uncle _is_ the Alpha, he’ll have to kill his last remaining relative. And he’s…not old. He was basically our age when his whole family died…”

“If he kills his uncle, he becomes the Alpha,” Stiles says quietly. “I don’t know how Scott will deal with that.”

Danny rubs his neck and leans back. “Or how Derek would. He’s not… Based on tonight, he doesn’t seem like he even wants to be Alpha, Stiles. He’s scared and alone and he can’t relate to others right now, so he tries to intimidate them instead. I think he came to you because he _needs_ someone to come to. Wolves aren’t solitary creatures, and those that are don’t live long.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t want to live that long,” Stiles points out. 

“If you were in his position, would you?” Danny asks. 

Not without you, Stiles wants to say. But the truth is, he thinks he would soldier on. He thinks that even if Danny and his dad and Scott all died, Stiles would keep going because they’d want him to and it’s not in him to disappoint them all at once. But he’s not a wolf without his pack. He’s not living in the place his family died. He’s not looking at having to kill his last remaining family member. 

Suddenly his house is too large and too empty. His dad won’t be home for hours if at all tonight--a dead body means a lot of paperwork. Once upon a time he would have gone to Scott’s house, he would have bunked in on Scott’s bed and they would have done a bro-fist before falling asleep and in the morning Danny would make jokes about Scott stealing his man. Now he just imposes on Danny. 

“Danny, can--”

“Of course,” Danny says before Stiles even finishes asking. “I’ll leave the light on.”

Stiles texts his dad on the way out the door and his dad texts back saying he’s relieved Stiles isn’t staying home alone with a wild animal or creepy murderer on the loose.

Everyone’s in bed by the time Stiles arrives, so he turns off the porch light and the lamps in the living room and quietly walks up the stairs to Danny’s room. Light shines out of the sliver between Danny’s door and the floor and when Stiles slips inside, he sees Danny in bed. Almost asleep, Danny reaches out for Stiles, lifting the corner of his blanket up for Stiles to slip under. Stiles toes off his shoes and slides out of jeans, dropping his shirt on top of them. He flicks off Danny’s bedside light.

Danny nuzzles his neck when he joins him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whispers, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist. 

“ _Aloha au ia 'oe_ ,” Danny says, his lips tickling Stiles’s skin as he does so. 

“ _Aloha kaua_ ,” Stiles responds, tightening his grip on Danny. 

This time he feels Danny’s lips curl up into a smile before they both drift off to sleep.

-0-

“Dude, seriously?” Scott asks. They walk down the hallway towards Scott’s locker. There are red and pick streamers everywhere even though Valentine’s Day isn’t for three more days. 

Stiles feels his grin grow larger as he practically floats down the hallway. “What?” he asks innocently. 

“Don’t even,” Scott says. “You’ve been on cloud nine since we got here.”

“Four years,” Stiles sings. “Four years for me and my man.”

“Not until Monday,” Scott reminds him. “It’s still Friday, Stiles.”

Stiles leans up against the lockers and hooks his thumbs in his backpack straps. “I know, but just… It’s crazy, you know. Four years and I still want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

Scott gives him a dubious look and starts unpacking and re-packing his backpack. Scott has never been his and Danny’s biggest supporter. To be fair he’s never been against them, but Stiles can tell that he doesn’t expect them to last. Stiles privately thinks part of it has to do with Scott’s parents’ divorce, but he keeps those thoughts to himself. 

“Hey, Stiles,” Allison greets warmly as she wanders over. “You look happy today.”

“It’s my anniversary this weekend,” Stiles tells her, bouncing a little. “Well, really it’s Monday but we’re celebrating this weekend. It just kind of makes me happy.”

Allison laughs in an entirely joyful way. “That’s so amazing about you and Danny. You guys are great together.”

“We try,” Stiles agrees magnanimously. Behind her he catches sight of Jackson and Lydia and then… “Catch you at lunch!” he calls over his shoulder to Scott before he bounds down the hallway. 

He doesn’t tackle Danny, but it’s a near thing and they end up bumping into the lockers anyway. Danny laughs because really, Stiles saw him about ten minutes ago considering Danny drove them both to school today after Stiles spent the night, but Stiles is just really freaking happy right now. 

“Really shouldn’t have let you have that coffee,” Danny grins. 

“Coffee good, you better,” Stiles tells him. 

Danny hooks an arm around his waist. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”

“Such a gentleman!” Stiles says dramatically and lets Danny drag him down the hallway. 

-0-

The night starts off great. Stiles cooks and Danny walks around shirtless in encouragement and they eat out of the same large bowl in front of the tv while watching _Sneakers_. When the movie ends, Stiles puts the leftover pasta in the refrigerator and he and Danny swap Reese’s peanut butter cups. (Which also leads to them making out after they brush their teeth because Danny doesn’t like the after-taste the peanut butter cups leave.)

Just as Stiles is positive Danny’s about to blow him, Derek stumbles in through his window. Stiles grabs a pillow to cover himself with and Danny reaches over the side of the bed for their underwear. 

Derek whirls around, staring at the wall to give them some privacy as they shimmy back into their clothes. Getting dressed with an erection isn’t the most pleasant thing ever but it beats the alternative. 

“We’re decent,” Stiles says as Danny tugs his t-shirt back down. 

“Sorry,” is the first thing Derek mumbles as he turns back to face them. “I didn’t…”

“It’s cool,” Danny says, waving the concern away. “What’s up?”

Derek leans back against Stiles’s wall and slides down to the ground, resting his arms on his knees. “You were right,” he says finally. “About the Alpha being my uncle.”

“Does he know you know?” Danny asks. 

Derek shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not. I tried to stay far enough away that he wouldn’t catch my scent. His nurse was helping him.”

“So now what?” Stiles asks. 

“If he’s strong enough to kill, we’ll have to be careful,” Derek tells them. “The only advantage we have is that he doesn’t know we know.”

Stiles taps his finger on his knee. “Could you and Scott take him? If it came down to a straight fight.” 

“I doubt it,” Derek answers. “Scott is hardly in control, and I don’t have the power to stand up to an Alpha.”

“How about we reconvene in the morning,” Danny suggests. “Did you eat, Derek?”

Derek looks startled. “What?”

“We have leftovers,” Danny says. He gets up and walks over to Derek offering him a hand up. The werewolf stares at Danny’s hand for a second before taking it and pulling himself to a standing position. He glances at Stiles before following Danny out of the room and down to the kitchen. 

Later, after Danny literally tucks Derek into the Stilinski guest room bed, he turns to Stiles and says, “So, we may have adopted a werewolf.”

“He’s older than us.”

“I don’t think he’s used to being the oldest, though.” Danny sighs and tugs Stiles closer. “He’s living in that burnt out house of his, starving.”

Stiles can’t deny that. “I’ll talk to my dad,” he says finally. “But this might put a dampener on the whole Isaac situation.”

“Worry about that when the time comes,” Danny advises. “We have a couple of spare rooms, too.”

“Are we crazy?” Stiles asks. “This is our life now, Danny. We’re in this, we can’t unsee.”

Danny kisses his shoulder. “We’re definitely crazy,” he agrees. “Get some sleep, we have brainstorming to do in the morning.”

“I’m still mourning the blowjob that wasn’t,” Stiles tells him. 

Danny laughs softly. “Me, too. Maybe… In the morning?”

“Mm, depends on when dad gets home,” Stiles says. 

“K,” Danny nods. “Night.”

“Night,” Stiles answers. 

-0-

Derek’s plan involves a dart tipped with wolfsbane shot into his uncle’s heart. Stiles’s plan involves telling the Argents and letting them deal with it so Derek doesn’t have to. Danny’s plan involves making it look like patient-assisted suicide to also involve bringing down the nurse who is helping Derek’s uncle. 

They haven’t quite figured out a way to put Danny’s or Derek’s plan into action and Derek is dead-set against going to the Argents for help, so by mid-morning they’re at an impasse, which is just as well because that’s when Stiles’s dad shows up. 

“Stiles? Danny?” his dad calls from the entrance-way. 

“We’re up, Mr. S!” Danny yells back from the dining room. 

“Saved you some breakfast,” Stiles says, as his dad enters. He stands up and gestures to a free chair next to Danny. “I’ll go get it.”

He heats up the stack of whole-wheat pancakes in the microwave, pulling out the syrup and the almost-butter while it cooks. 

“Derek Hale is in the dining room.”

Stiles jumps and turns around to see his father leaning against the door jam, arms crossed. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

“Yes?” his dad asks patiently. 

“So, I may have been a little hasty in accusing him of murder…” Stiles says reluctantly. 

“That doesn’t explain why he’s in my house,” the Sherriff reminds him. 

“We’re friends? Now? Maybe?” Stiles guesses. “He kind of needs a place to crash for a while, and I was hoping…”

His dad is silent for a long moment. In the background the microwave beeps and he can vaguely hear Derek and Danny talking about something, but Stiles is too busy trying to read his dad to figure out what they’re saying. 

“Sometimes,” his dad says quietly. “Sometimes you’re so much like your mother. She was always taking in strays, remember? All those pets you had growing up… Before you were born we had people in and out of the house, staying for a few days or a couple months until they could get back on their feet. She could never pass up a chance to help someone.” He pauses. “What about the Lahey kid?”

“I never said it was Isaac,” Stiles points out. “But if it were him, hypothetically we might be waiting on the paperwork, and also it’s possible that Danny may have offered up his guest room as well. Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically, of course,” his dad nods. “Well, _un_ hypothetically _,_ Derek can stay for a while if he needs to, but there will be some ground rules laid out for him.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, smiling. “Derek can stay?”

“He’s on a trial basis for now, but I could never say no to your mother when she looked at me like that,” his dad confesses. “And I guess I can’t say no to you either.”

Stiles flings himself forward and wraps his dad in a hug. “Thank you, thank you!” he says. 

“After I eat, we’ll have a talk. I don’t care if Danny stays or not, but if Derek’s staying we have a few things to discuss.”

“Of course,” Stiles agrees. “Coffee?”

“Juice,” his dad says. “I’ll get that, you get my food.”

A few minutes later, he settles in next to his dad at the table, across from Danny and Derek and okay Stiles might be gently poking Danny’s bare feet with his own, but Danny doesn’t seem to mind. 

“So,” the Sheriff says, cutting off a piece of pancake. “My son tells me you’re moving in for a while.”

Danny and Derek both blink. Danny coughs into his hand. “I mean, eventually Stiles and I want to--”

“Not you,” his dad says, cutting Danny off. Stiles eyes his boyfriend and resents his dad because he really wants to know how Danny was going to finish that sentence. “You’re already here half the time, Daniel. You eat my food, mow the lawn, and have your own towels. I meant Derek.”

Derek looks surprised and his eyes dart over to Stiles before landing back on the Sheriff. “I don’t think I am?” he asks. 

“Stiles seems adamant that you are,” his dad tells him. “If you aren’t, that’s fine, but he seemed to think you need a place to stay.”

“I have one,” Derek says. 

“Yes, but ours has running water,” Stiles says wiggling his eyebrows. “And heat. And electricity. And washing machines…”

“The YMCA has showers, I’m not cold, don’t have anything that needs to be plugged in, and there are Laundromats nearby,” Derek argues. 

Stiles sighs and looks at Danny. Danny obligingly elbows Derek in the side and says in that unflappable voice of his, “Don’t be dumb.”

Derek’s shoulders slump and for a moment Stiles forgets that Derek is a werewolf. He forgets that he’s threatened to kill Stiles and is planning on killing his uncle. He’s suddenly this homeless guy who’s alone in the world, trying to figure out how to accept help he doesn’t think he needs. 

“It’s settled then!” Stiles proclaims merrily. He rubs his hands together and says, “We’ll move you in today! Do you even have stuff to move in? I swear I’ve seen your shirt in another color. Which means you have at least one other shirt floating around…”

“I have a bag,” Derek grudgingly admits. 

“ _A_ bag?” Stiles repeats. “As in one? You’ve been here for weeks. Where’s the rest of your stuff?”

Derek shifts in his seat. “I didn’t have time to pack much when I left to come here.”

“Can you get it?” Stiles asks. “Your stuff?”

“Not right now,” Derek says, eyes flashing and Stiles can take the hint. 

He sizes up Derek and then looks over at Danny pleadingly. Danny looks resigned when he turns to Derek. “I have some clothes that should fit you if you don’t want to get new ones.”

“I’m fine,” Derek says firmly. 

“I’ll bring some by anyway,” Danny says. “Just in case.”

“Thank you for that, Danny,” Stiles’s dad says. “Now, some rules…”

The rules end up being pretty standard. Derek doesn’t have a curfew, but he’s expected to be quiet if he comes in late. He’s not allowed to buy alcohol for Stiles (no matter how much he begs). He’s welcome to the food, but chipping in some money wouldn’t go amiss. His dad talks about laundry and cleaning and other chores; Stiles tunes him out, busy turning over their ideas for Peter Hale. 

Later, when Derek is grabbing his bag from the Hale house and his dad is out running errands, Danny flops on top of Stiles on the bed. He’s heavy and Stiles feels himself sink into the mattress, but the weight is reassuring more than bothersome. 

“Your dad is being super cool about Derek,” Danny mumbles. 

“He said my mom was the same way,” Stiles explains. “And I… I don’t know, I think maybe he thinks having someone else in the house would be a good thing since he’s gone so often. I’m not sure he trusts Derek, exactly, but I think that because he’s so much older he sees him more as a responsible adult than a kid.”

“Mm,” Danny hums. “Maybe.” He works his hands up Stiles’s shirt, pushing it up as he goes. “Off, off,” he breathes. 

Stiles raises his arms up and lets Danny slide his shirt off of him. Danny leans down and kisses him soundly, hands working at Stiles’s jeans while his mouth distracts him. “Now?” Stiles asks breathlessly. 

Danny doesn’t answer, instead he starts kissing his way down Stiles’s jaw, tugging roughly at his pants. Stiles is naked by the time Danny has kissed his way over Stiles’s chest. 

“I love this spot on you,” Danny says, licking at the slight jut of Stiles’s hipbone through his skin. It’s been Danny’s favorite spot on Stiles’s body for as long as he’s had access to it. (Stiles’s favorite spot on Danny’s body is the inside of Danny’s elbow. He has no idea why, but he loves it and whenever he mouths at it Danny shivers all over.)

“You don’t have to,” Stiles says, carding his fingers through Danny’s hair. He just wants to make sure that Danny knows he isn’t expecting anything.

Danny looks up, resting his chin on Stiles’s hip. “I want to,” he says. “So bad.” Then he licks his lips. 

__

Licks his _lips_. 

Stiles is so far gone he doesn’t even know which way is up and he’s facing the ceiling. Danny gives a shaky laugh, his breath warm as he exhales and Stiles can feel it in places he’s never felt Danny’s breath before. 

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” Danny says. 

Stiles nods. “I will.”

“I’ve watched a lot of porn preparing for this moment,” Danny grins. 

“Time to put research into action.”

Danny scoots a little further down until he’s nestled between Stiles’s legs. He looks nervous, but not overly so, and he keeps licking his lips, so much so that they glisten wetly in the light. 

Then Danny just goes for it. He licks his way up Stiles’s length and then opens his mouth and Stiles sinks in slowly. Danny manages about half of him before he gags and pulls up a little, but his hand wraps around the base and Stiles doesn’t really care what happens after that because _his_ dick is in _Danny’s_ mouth. 

It’s louder than Stiles had thought it would be, slurping sounds and spit going everywhere, but Danny doesn’t seem at all discouraged, if anything it spurs him on more. 

Stiles finds himself fisting Danny’s hair with one hand and the sheets with another to stop from bucking his hips towards Danny’s face. Everything feels amazing. For once, his brain has stopped thinking. All he can do is focus on Danny and Danny’s tongue and Danny’s mouth and Danny’s hand. 

It hasn’t been more than a handful of minutes when Stiles feels his body tense up, about to come. He pulls harder on Danny’s hair until Danny gets the message and lets Stiles’s dick fall out of his mouth. He gives it one last lick and does the rest with his hand, pumping a few times until Stiles comes all over both of them. Danny leans down and tentatively licks at a bit of it. He makes a face and Stiles can’t help but laugh. 

“It tasted better when your dick was in my mouth,” Danny says, but he licks the rest off of his hand and the bit that’d splattered onto Stiles. “I think I’ll get used to it.”

Stiles smiles lazily and reaches down to pull him up. “My turn.”

Danny shakes his head, leans down to kiss Stiles, rubs against Stiles’s hip, and then comes with a soft cry. “Sorry,” he pants as he collapses. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my entire life. I love blowing you. Please tell me I can do that everyday.”

“As long as I get a turn eventually,” Stiles agrees. He rubs his thumb up and down Danny’s arm. “So you really liked it?”

“I _loved_ it,” Danny says. “I just… I don’t know. It was amazing. I was pretty worried at first--that I’d do it wrong or that I wouldn’t like it, but _wow,_ I just really want to do that forever.” Danny looks at him suddenly, worry on his face. “Did _you_ like it?”

Stiles gapes. “Are you kidding? That was amazing. It felt really fucking good, Danny.”

Danny tilts his head up for a kiss and Stiles can still taste himself on Danny’s tongue. “Nap now,” Danny says when they break apart. 

“Derek will be back soon,” Stiles reminds him. 

“Don’t care,” Danny mutters. “It’s our anniversary, his problems are encroaching.”

Stiles laughs. “Next time I’ll tell him to make sure his problems are solved before February rolls around.”

“Please do,” Danny says. 

-0-

On Monday, when Stiles opens his locker, there are Reese’s peanut butter cups everywhere and a card taped to the inside of his door. 

__

A drop in the bucket, is what Danny has written on the inside. 

The card Stiles left for Danny has long, never-ending sentences that crawl across the front, the inside, the back, and onto the envelope. Because what Danny can say in five words takes Stiles a hundred (plus some really terrible stick figure drawings of him and Danny holding hands and skipping). He likes that they’re different like that, though, and he’s pretty sure Danny does as well.

-0-

In the end, they go with Stiles’s plan first. Stiles likes to think it’s because his is the best thought out with the best consequences there can be in a murder scenario, but really it’s probably because he wouldn’t stop talking until Derek caved. 

Which is how Stiles comes to be standing on the Argent doorstep Wednesday night with Derek and Danny in a car close by. 

He rings the doorbell and Allison’s mom (he assumes) answers. The first thing to cross his mind is how hideous her haircut is and how someone her age really shouldn’t be dying their hair rock-a-billy red. (And if that’s natural, then Allison should be completely grateful she didn’t inherit it.)

Mrs. Argent smiles and it looks just like a lie. “Are you here for Allison?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No, I was wondering if I could talk to, um, Mr. Argent for a minute?”

Her eyes narrow, but the fake smile never leaves her face. She turns away and says, “Chris? There’s someone at the door for you.”

Allison’s dad pops up behind her mom and they exchange looks before Chris shoulders past her and steps out onto the doorstep with Stiles. The door closes behind him and he smiles. “Are you a friend of Allison’s?”

Stiles is mostly gay and all the gay parts of him are gay for Danny, but _damn_ if Allison’s dad isn’t really good looking. In a totally abstract, he’s really old kind of way. He swallows nervously. “Um, yeah, Scott’s my best friend, and she’s friends with Lydia who’s dating Jackson who’s my boyfriend’s best friend…it’s some kind of weird best friend circle.”

Chris nods. “I’m glad she’s making friends here. Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Stiles,” he says, holding out his hand. “Stiles Stilinski. My dad’s the Sheriff.”

“Ah,” Chris says, shaking. “I’ve met him a few times, nice guy. So, Stiles, what can I help you with?”

Stiles jams his hands into his pocket and nervously glances towards Danny’s car. “We kind of have an Alpha problem and need your help.”

He’s pretty sure that’s the last thing Chris expected him to say, judging by the surprised look on his face. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Me, Danny, and Derek. Hale.”

“You’re trying to convince me that Derek Hale has an Alpha problem?” Chris asks skeptically. 

“His sister was his Alpha, and now she’s dead,” Stiles says bluntly. “Derek didn’t kill her and he didn’t kill the guy at the video store or the bus driver. There’s someone else and we…we think it might be his uncle.”

“The uncle that’s supposedly in long-term care,” Chris says. 

Stiles shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, look…” He lays out all the reasons they think Peter is the Alpha and Chris remains silent while he does so. 

When he finishes Chris asks, “So why come to me?”

“We don’t have any experience working around the law,” Stiles answers bluntly. “Derek can’t take out an Alpha on his own and Danny and I have no training whatsoever in this field. We need help and we know it. We think the best way is to fake some kind of nurse-assisted suicide since his nurse has been helping him escape the care facility at night, but we aren’t tied to the idea.”

“How do I know this isn’t just some plan of yours to get me to kill the Alpha so Derek can be Alpha instead?” Chris asks. 

Stiles exhales. “If your only remaining relative were a killer would you kill them just for some power, Mr. Argent? If he killed your sister would you sit back and let him enjoy the power he received from killing her?” He steps a little closer and lowers his voice in hopes that Derek won’t be able to hear him. “Between you and me, I don’t think Derek even wants to be Alpha. He was never supposed to be. Once Peter’s gone, Derek’s alone in the world, alone for good. There’s not much left of him now and if he becomes Alpha there will be even less. He didn’t want to ask for your help, but he got overruled. We’re asking out of respect, because the town is as much your territory as it is Derek’s, but if you won’t help us we’ll figure this out on our own.”

“How do you know about all of this?” Chris asks, looking thoughtful. “Does Allison know?”

“Allison doesn’t,” Stiles assures him. “And I found out by accident. Derek’s kind of living with me and my dad at the moment.”

Chris looks him over. “You’re not…?”

“I’m still one hundred percent human.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Also human,” Stiles says firmly. “Look, Mr. Argent, it doesn’t really matter why we’re in this because we’re already in. We just need some help. Derek doesn’t trust you as far as I can throw you, and to be honest I don’t really trust you either, but if we’re going to coexist peacefully in the same town, I think we should at least try to get along.”

Chris rubs a hand across his face. “You’re so young.”

Stiles shrugs. “Sometimes shit happens.”

“If we do this, Hale can’t take it back. There’s no way to un-kill his uncle,” Chris warns. 

“He knows,” Stiles says. “We all know. But we can’t just let Peter keep killing people.”

“I need to think about this,” Chris says. “Is there a way to contact you?”

Stiles pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it over. “That’s my number and my e-mail address--call, text, e-mail, whatever. I’ll answer unless I’m in class.”

“Class,” Chris repeats wearily. “Geezus, I’m dealing with kids.”

Stiles attempts to look older. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t work. “Um, thanks for your time, sir.”

“Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Stiles says. He gives Chris a slight nod and then makes his way back to Danny’s car. He’s proud when he only trips once. 

“So?” Danny asks as Stiles buckles himself into the passenger seat. 

“I think he’s in,” Stiles says. “He tried to seem as though he had to consider it first but I doubt he’s going to let an Alpha just run loose. Although I think he is skeptical about the Alpha being Derek’s uncle and not Derek.”

“There’s a way to prove that,” Derek says from the backseat. 

“Eye color?” Stiles guesses. 

“Yes.”

“If he gets back to me, I can suggest it. Really hope they aren’t the shoot first, ask questions later type,” Stiles says. 

“Some of them are,” Derek growls. 

“Well, then let’s hope _he_ isn’t.”

-0-

Chris Argent’s plan isn’t without risk. In fact, Derek will be in more danger than Stiles feels comfortable with if something goes wrong. (Which is something he’s going to have to think about when this is all over because Stiles barely knows Derek and if Derek wants to put himself in danger then that’s Derek’s choice and it shouldn’t make Stiles comfortable or uncomfortable.) (Though, for what it’s worth, Danny is sort of freaking out about the plan as well.)

But in the end it all happens as smoothly as planned. 

They spend a weekend staking out the care facility to prove to Chris that a. Derek really isn’t the Alpha, and b. his uncle is. Then they put the plan into place. 

Danny hacks into the care home’s computer system and switches out Peter’s nurse with someone else, altering her schedule to fit their needs. Then he adds in a sedative to Peter’s nightly dose of medicine and they wait outside for Derek to confirm that his heart has slowed and he’s actually asleep. 

Chris figures out a way into the facility while Stiles and Danny provide a (useless) lookout service from the car in the parking lot. 

Stiles isn’t sure exactly how it went down but he knows there was a syringe full of wolfsbane that was plunged into Peter’s heart, close enough to kill him within minutes but far enough so that the entry site healed. No one tests for aconite poisoning during an autopsy and patients like Peter die all the time, so when Derek gets the call the next morning, they tell him it was heart failure and ask about releasing the body. The part Stiles doesn’t know about is who actually killed Peter. Because of the sedative it could have been Chris or Derek. (Stiles hopes it was Chris because Derek doesn’t need Peter’s death on his conscience.)

On Thursday, Stiles helps Derek make cremation arrangements and tries to bring up Scott except Derek isn’t talking. He’s said maybe three words since Stiles returned from school and while it’s troubling, Stiles can’t fault the guy for his silence. So he fills it instead. He babbles about Danny and about classes and about how Harris has it out for him. He explains lacrosse and the way he’s a permanent bench-warmer and he’s thinking about quitting because sitting on the sidelines isn’t all that fun. 

Stiles gives him a hug before bed and doesn’t say anything when Derek clings to him extra hard.

-0-

The next week, Derek leaves to get his stuff and there’s some worry about whether or not he’ll actually come back, but Stiles wants to believe that Derek isn’t the kind of guy who would leave a newly turned werewolf like Scott behind. Scott who has terrible control but refuses to work with Derek and refuses to work with Stiles because he’s harboring Derek. Stiles thinks Scott needs to get over his woe-is-me schtick because there’s no fixing what he is now. He’ll give him another two weeks before he sends Danny in to kick his ass into gear. 

Sunday morning Stiles lets himself into the Mahealani household. Danny’s dad waves at him from the dining room table over the top of his newspaper. Danny’s mom pokes her head out from the kitchen, shakes her finger at him and says, “No pancakes for you.”

Stiles makes a pleading face but she remains firm. The price to pay for forgetting his all but mother-in-law is a lawyer. 

He sighs and heads up the stairs to Danny’s room. It’s still early, barely ten, but Stiles is ready to hang out with his boyfriend. 

Danny, predictably, is still asleep. He has a leg hanging half off the bed and his face is smooshed into a pillow while his blankets rest more on the floor than on him. Stiles grins and takes a running leap at the bed. He lands somewhere between Danny and the wall, only partly on top of Danny’s other leg. 

Then Stiles waits. 

Two minutes later. “Seriously?” Danny asks, turning his head to face Stiles. “Seriously, Stiles?”

“Let’s go hiking,” Stiles says.

“It’s February,” Danny grumbles. “No.”

Danny won’t ever admit it, but he’s still somewhat bitter that his family moved from Hawaii to Beacon Hills. Danny is a sunshine boy, through and through. In the summer he’ll lay outside for hours with his shirt off, just taking in the sun. He drags Stiles to the beach all the time, willing to drive farther to Carmel or Santa Cruz for better surf. 

Danny _hates_ the cold and Stiles knew he would say no to hiking in February.

He bounces on Danny’s bed a little bit. “Let’s… There’s nothing to do,” Stiles whines. 

“There’s sleep,” Danny says. He hooks an arm over Stiles’s knees and closes his eyes. 

“Let’s go shopping,” Stiles decides. 

Danny doesn’t even glance at him before saying, “No.”

“We can go driving?” he asks hopefully. 

“No.”

“TP Jackson’s house?”

“No.”

“How about--”

“Stiles,” Danny grumbles. 

“Do you think Isaac will hang out with me?” Stiles asks. 

“Considering he isn’t currently talking to you? No,” Danny answers. 

“But he didn’t put the kibosh on everything,” Stiles points out. 

“Congratulations on being the lesser of two evils,” Danny says. “Go eat breakfast.”

“I ate breakfast.”

Danny sighs. “Let me sleep for another hour and we can get curly fries later.”

Stiles weighs the offer in his head. “I guess I could eat a second breakfast.”

Danny leans over, kisses Stiles’s thigh through his jeans. “Awesome. Go away now.”

“Feelin’ the love,” Stiles says, but he drags himself off of Danny’s bed. He grabs Danny’s laptop on the way out and closes the door quietly. 

Neither of Danny’s parents seem surprised to see him again. “Eggs, Stiles?” his mom asks. 

Stiles sits down next to Danny’s dad. “Yes, please, Mrs. M.”

“Toast, too?”

“Just eggs,” he answers. “I may have already eaten…”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I knew _that_ , child.” Stiles likes to think he isn’t as predictable as he is. 

“I saw your dad the other day,” Danny’s father says, lowering his newspaper. Stiles scans the sections on the table for the comics, but doesn’t see them. 

“Yeah?” he asks. He puts Danny’s laptop on the empty seat next to him. 

“He mentioned you have someone staying with you now?” Mr. M asks curiously. “A friend of yours and Danny’s?”

“Derek Hale,” Stiles tells him. “He needed a place to stay.”

“Wasn’t he involved in some stuff a while back?” Danny’s dad asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Those charges were dropped,” Stiles says quickly. “All a big misunderstanding. He’s a good guy and he needed a place to crash for a while, and we have that free room, so…”

“What about Isaac?” Mrs. M. asks, coming back in with a plate of scrambled eggs. She sets it down in front of Stiles and takes the seat across from him. 

“It’s a work in progress,” Stiles says weakly. “Derek won’t be there forever and you said it’d be at least a few months on Isaac, right?”

“Unless he can show proof of immediate danger,” she says with a pointed look. 

Stiles sinks down in his seat. “I’m working on it.”

“Hmm,” she muses. “So, how was your anniversary? Danny never tells us anything anymore.”

Stiles is pretty sure that’s a lie and they just want to see if his story matches up with Danny’s, because they’re sneaky like that. “It was good,” he tells them. “We made dinner, watched _Sneakers_ , then Derek showed up and ate all of our leftovers.”

“You boys and _Sneakers_ ,” Danny’s dad says with a shake of his head. 

“It’s a classic!” Stiles protests. “One of the best hacker movies of all times. Danny loves it.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Mr. M nods. “Any birthday plans for him yet?”

“I think we’re keeping it pretty low-key this year,” Stiles says. “Maybe a small get together or something--Jackson, Lydia, maybe a pizza.”

“You know what you’re getting him?” Danny’s mom asks. 

“Same as always,” Stiles shrugs. 

“Aftershave?” she guesses, amused. 

“Can’t break tradition,” Stiles confirms.

She laughs. “He wasn’t even shaving the first time you bought it, but because it was from you… Lord knows that boy used it anyway.”

“It smells good,” Stiles says happily. 

After breakfast, Stiles logs into Danny’s computer and kills a few zombies while he waits. And waits. And waits. 

Eventually he hears Danny walking around upstairs and Stiles waits for the shower to turn off before he closes the laptop and runs upstairs, leaving behind Danny’s sniggering parents. 

Danny has a towel around his waist when Stiles lets himself into his room. He doesn’t even turn away from his closet, just says, “Close the door.”

Stiles jumps onto Danny’s bed, bouncing as he waits. “Will your parents be here all day?”

“They’re meeting up with some people for lunch,” Danny answers. He grabs a long-sleeve shirt out of the closet and pulls it on over his head. “They’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”

There’s a pair of boxer briefs on the bed by Stiles, so he throws those at Danny’s head. Danny catches them in one hand and uses the other to loosen the towel so it falls to the floor. Stiles watches unabashedly as Danny steps into his underwear, pulling them up. 

Danny looks up at him and then smirks. “Yeah?” He crosses the room and crowds Stiles on his bed, leaning over him and then dropping to his knees so that he’s kneeling on the carpet between Stiles’s legs. He reaches out towards Stiles’s zipper, glancing up at his face for confirmation. Stiles nods and ruffles a hand over Danny’s wet hair. 

In the week since Danny first blew him, Danny’s done basically everything to do his best to keep doing it. Stiles had mostly believed him when he said he’d loved it, but now he’s positive Danny really does. Stiles feels slightly awkward about it because Danny gets off on blowing him, so much so that Stiles has yet to actually return the favor, but it makes Danny happy and Stiles isn’t going to turn down a blow job any time soon. 

Fingers unzip his jeans and Danny plants a kiss on Stiles’s knee through the denim. Stiles is embarrassingly soft, but Danny doesn’t seem to mind, considering he all but pounced on him out of nowhere. Also, Stiles is fifteen so it only takes about three strokes of Danny’s hand before he’s raring to go.

Out of the two of them, Danny makes the most noise during sex. It was unexpected, but Danny is definitely a moaner and Stiles is…not. He’s quiet. His brain may still be busy, but Stiles just doesn’t make a lot of noise during sex, or at least he hasn’t so far. He does fidget, though. And that was okay before when all they were doing is making out. Stiles could tap his foot or a finger and that’d be fine. He thinks it might be rude if he does that now, though, with Danny blowing him. 

Stiles hates this part of him. He hates that it’s hard for him to stay still and that words come tumbling out of his mouth before he has an honest chance to consider them. Danny has eternal patience with it, but Stiles doesn’t. Just sitting here while Danny goes down on him--it feels great, amazing, but Stiles feels antsy. 

He takes a deep breath and cards his fingers through Danny’s hair. His mind is everywhere though. Touch provides an anchor, it helps keep him grounded with Danny, but thoughts race regardless in the background. 

Stiles worries about his dad, about the lying and his job and if one day he won’t come home. He worries about Derek, if he’ll come back in the one slightly broken piece he left in. He worries about Scott and how he isn’t dealing with anything lately, lost in Allison. 

He only stops worrying when Danny pulls off of him, rests his chin on Stiles’s knee, looking up, and says, “Dude, be _here_.”

“Sorry,” Stiles apologizes. 

Danny laces their fingers together, kisses his knee again, and then swallows Stiles back down. He knows Danny isn’t mad at him, and it’s nice, Stiles thinks. To have that. 

He cups the back of Danny’s neck with his hand and Danny moans, soft and low, and Stiles just loves him. 

Ten minutes later they’re dressed again and laying on top of Danny’s bed. Danny has his head on Stiles’s chest and Stiles is pretty sure Danny is close to falling back asleep even though Stiles is wide awake. 

From next to the bed, Stiles’s phone beeps and he lets his arm fall down to grope around on the floor for it. Danny makes a noise of protest when Stiles picks it up to check it. They have a no texting while cuddling rule which Stiles is getting around this time because someone e-mailed him, not texted. 

“ _Stiles_.”

“It’s an e-mail,” he defends. He reads through it. “It’s from Allison’s dad. He wants to meet with us and Derek to possibly set up some ground rules about the town and to go over some Hunter stuff. What do you think?”

“You should ask Derek if he wants to,” Danny answers. “We don’t speak for him.”

“I’ll call him later,” Stiles says, dropping the phone back to the floor. He runs a hand down Danny’s back. “I’m bored.”

“Mm,” Danny mumbles sleepily. 

He taps out a rhythm along Danny’s spine. Stiles feels antsy and full of energy. He can’t sleep all day the way Danny does. “Maybe I should take my dad some lunch,” Stiles suggests. 

Danny inhales deeply and smashes their ribs together as he exhales. “Okay, I’m getting up. We’ll take your dad some food and then find something to do, okay?” He rubs a hand over Stiles’s hair. 

“Thanks,” Stiles says, a little embarrassed that he can’t just enjoy a lie-in with Danny. 

Danny gives him a soft kiss on his chin. “No probs.”

They take his dad lunch and then Stiles drags him to the park and they spend an hour on the swings in the park before going back to Danny’s and spending the rest of the day not-sleeping in Danny’s bed. 

-0-

Thursday after school is the only day Stiles doesn’t have lacrosse practice _and_ that his dad won’t be home, so that’s when they schedule the meeting with Chris. He’d offered to have them at his house, but Derek had looked at Stiles until Stiles had offered up his own place. 

As he drives up to his house with Danny in the passenger seat, he passes the Argents car and then Derek’s car and then…his father’s squad car. Shit. 

“Not good,” Stiles mutters. He puts his car into park and hops out, hurrying up to the door. “Dad?” he calls as he enters, Danny behind him. 

His dad is in the living room with Chris Argent, no Derek in sight, and they’re both grinning as though someone just told a joke. 

“Stiles, Danny” his dad greets. “Mr. Argent was just telling me about the time he caught Scott falling in through Allison’s window. He made quite the loud thump.”

“Great story,” Stiles agrees. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I had to swap shifts with Moulsen,” his dad answers. “I’m not going in until tonight.”

Chris does flash Stiles an apologetic look and then turns to the Sheriff. “Anyway, I’ll come by tomorrow with some of the newer models I’m getting in, if that works for you.”

“Works just fine, Chris,” his dad smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Chris nods to Stiles and Danny as he passes and his dad walks him to the door, shutting to softly behind him. He turns to look at Stiles. “Weird that he came here to tell me about his new inventory.” 

Stiles plasters on an innocent look. “Yeah, weird.” He bounces. “Is Derek here?”

“Upstairs,” his dad answers. “He skipped lunch, so if you want to take him up some food when you go…”

Stiles makes three chicken, avocado, and tomato sandwiches and grabs a bag of chips before heading upstairs. Derek isn’t in his room when Stiles pokes his head in, so Stiles heads for his own room. He finds Derek and Danny both bent over staring at Stiles’s laptop. Probably Youtube, Stiles decides. Danny has a thing for those viral videos and Stiles has caught Derek on the site more than once. 

“Food,” he announces.

Derek all but snatches a sandwich out of his hands, downing half of it before Danny even turns around to get his. When he finishes his, Derek looks longingly at Stiles’s that has yet to be touched. Stiles rolls his eyes but passes it over. He’s not that hungry anyway. 

“I guess we’ll have to reschedule with Mr. Argent,” Stiles says, flopping down on his bed. He starfishes across the whole thing and stares up at the ceiling. When neither Derek nor Danny say anything, Stiles rolls over onto his elbows to look at them; they’re engrossed in the computer again. Stiles sighs and turns onto his back again. “Let’s do something fun this weekend,” he says. 

“Like what?” Danny asks absently without looking over. 

“Paintball?” Stiles suggests. 

“I’m in,” Danny says. He nudges Derek’s shoulder. “You?”

Derek swallows what he’s chewing. “What’s paintball?”

“You’ll like it,” Stiles says. “You’re coming.” Derek shrugs in a casually dismissive way that lets Stiles know he’ll go. “We can invite Scott and Allison, too. It’s better in a bigger group.”

“Jackson likes paintball,” Danny says. 

Stiles makes a face that Danny doesn’t see. He sighs inwardly and says, “I guess if he comes we’ll have even teams.”

“Lydia will probably want to come, too,” Danny tells him. 

“Maybe Isaac…” Stiles muses. 

“…Will enjoy having several rounds of paintballs attack him?” Danny finishes skeptically, turning in his chair to face Stiles. 

“We can at least ask,” Stiles insists. 

“By ‘we’ you mean me,” Danny sighs, but pulls out his phone anyway. “You ask Scott and Allison and I’ll see about the other three and then we can book some time on the field.”

“You’re my _favorite_ ,” Stiles tells him with a grin. 

“I better be,” Danny says. 

-0-

The eventual meeting with Mr. Argent ends up being short and concise, which Stiles appreciates. Basically the Argents will keep to the Code as long as Derek doesn’t go berserk like his uncle did and keeps Scott reigned in, and keeps them appraised of the number of werewolves in his pack (though names are not necessary). Stiles hopes the Argents are as honorable as they seem, but he’s not willing to blindly believe that they are. Derek has no such faith about anything regarding the Argents, which Stiles figures is fair enough.

-0-

　

Isaac shows up at Danny’s early on Saturday morning, hours before everyone is meeting for paintball. He has a bag slung over his shoulder and another two at his feet along with his backpack on his back. 

Stiles has answered the door in his boxers and Danny’s t-shirt from the night before. He blinks at the light pouring in through the doorway. It’s probably barely five in the morning, if that, but Danny’s bedroom is above the door and since Stiles sleeps the lightest, he was the only one who heard the soft knocking. 

“Sup?” Stiles says with a yawn. He leans down and grabs the bags at Isaac’s feet. “Come on in, dude.”

Isaac looks timid and nervous and fucking scared out of his mind, but he follows Stiles into the house. Stiles makes sure to lock the door behind them before he leads Isaac up the stairs to the guest room closest to Danny’s room. He carefully sets Isaac’s bags down by the bed and waits for Isaac to set the ones he’s carrying down too. 

“Breakfast is at ten-ish. Danny’s mom makes the best pancakes ever, dude, and I’m finally allowed to eat them again, so I’ll be up when she is. Danny will probably laze in bed until noon and eat on the way to the field, but he’s not really a morning person. You can get up whenever and help yourself to any of the food. I recommend the pancakes, though.”

“Should I…” Isaac hesitates. “Danny’s parents…?”

“Are totally cool with lending out their guest room,” Stiles tells him. “His mom will probably have to talk to you about some legal things or whatever so they’re not, like, technically kidnapping a minor or something, but that’s really way beyond my purview. So yeah, that conversation is coming, but his parents are literally as chill as Danny is, so there’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

Isaac nods. “Okay.”

“Also, fair warning: I’m a hugging kind of guy and you look like you could use a thousand hugs, so there’s gonna be some of those in your future,” Stiles tells him. He yawns again. “For now, though, more sleep. Bathroom is two doors down from you on the right, lots of clean towels in there so just grab some of those. Feel free to use the shampoo or whatever if you didn’t bring your own. I think it’s all ones Danny’s mom didn’t like, though, so you may end up smelling like lilacs or roses or some shit like that.”

Stiles is almost out there door when Isaac says his name. He stops and turns around to face him. Isaac tugs on the bottom of his sleeves. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because you deserve nothing less,” Stiles answers. He offers Isaac a small smile and steps out of the room. 

Danny is warm and pliable when Stiles crawls back into bed with him. Stiles wiggles around until he’s tucked under Danny’s arm and breathing in nothing but Danny. 

-0-

“Whatever happened to walks under the moonlight?” Danny grumbles, shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. 

“The knowledge of just how many things go bump in the night,” Stiles answers. He wraps his arms around Danny from behind and hugs him close. 

“It’s night right now,” Danny points out. 

“It’s five in the morning right now and you’re waiting for the sun to rise so you can watch it with your awesome boyfriend and feel romantic,” Stiles counters. 

“It’s cold.”

“It’s March,” Stiles sighs. He slips a hand under the front of Danny’s shirt and laughs when Danny jumps a little. 

“I hate you,” Danny mutters. “Your hands are fucking freezing.”

Stiles has an aunt that lives in Connecticut that they used to visit when he was younger and once he’d stayed up all night to watch the sunrise; it had been spectacular. The way the sun glinted over the ocean and rose in colors and waves making everything look sun-kissed and beautiful. 

Sunrises in California aren’t the same. 

Stiles watches as Beacon Hills begins to light up, sun softly hitting the tops of buildings and empty streets. It lacks a golden hue or the glistening orange of Connecticut. The sky goes from dark to light in the blink of an eye, or so it seems. 

(Sunsets are what California exceeds at, the way the sun falls into the horizon, making everything glow and glisten. Stiles thinks you’re a sunset or a sunrise person depending on where you live and often feels bad for people who live in Kansas or Missouri, because he figures they must get the worst of both.)

“There, the sun is up,” Danny says. “Can we go now? Before my nuts freeze and fall off?”

Stiles reaches down and cops a feels. “They seem pretty warm to me.”

“Do not start something, Stilinski,” Danny warns. “It’s too fucking cold.”

Stiles slides his hand all the way up Danny’s shirt until he can thumb a nipple. “Uh-huh.”

“You are seriously the worst,” Danny says, but it’s more of a moan than anything else. 

He presses a wet kiss to the back of Danny’s neck. “Tell me you love me,” he whispers. 

Danny turns around in his arms and hugs him close before resting his hands on Stiles’s ass. “I love you,” he says, looking Stiles in the eye. He leans down and kisses him, once, twice, and a third time before pressing his nose to Stiles’s hair. 

When Stiles looks again, the city is bright and awake, almost as though it had never been asleep. 

-0- End -0-


End file.
